Stripped
by RobzBeanie
Summary: ** COMPLETE ** He catches my eye from the first moment I see him, the way he oozes sex. I have no idea what I'm going to do with him when I get him home. Sometimes cougar fantasies don't turn out the way you expect. ** MEET THE MATE CONTEST ENTRY ** #3 in Top Ten Completed Fics for Jan 2016 on TwiFanfictionRecs **
1. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

**Contest entry for the Meet the Mate contest**

 **Pen Name:** RobzBeanie  
 **Title:** Stripped  
 **Summary:** He catches my eye from the first moment I see him, the way he oozes sex. I have no idea what I'm going to do with him when I get him home.  
 **Pairing:** Bella/Edward  
 **Beta:** moosals  
 **Rating:** M

* * *

 _Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_

"Please tell me you're not planning to wear _that_ ," Alice groans as she steps through my open front door. I close the door behind her, frowning as I look down at my outfit. I'm wearing the same light gray slacks and navy silk button-down blouse that I wore to work today.

"What's wrong with it? We're only going out to dinner."

"We're also going out _after_ dinner; I told you that already. _That_ is not club attire." Alice is wearing dark wash skinny jeans and a shimmery silver top that I'd never be caught dead in. I personally find her look a bit too '20-something' for a 34-year-old wife and mother of two, but I know better than to complain.

"And I'm not a club _person_ , Alice. Look," I begin, running my hand through my hair, "It's been a long week. I'd really just like to go home and go to bed after we eat dinner."

Alice just stares at me, looking aghast. "We're celebrating your 35th birthday, Bella! You cannot just 'go home and go to bed' by eight o'clock." She shakes her head, looking incredibly put out with me.

"Fine," I acquiesce. "We can go out… for a little while. But I'm not changing."

Alice pouts but relents. I grab my purse and keys, locking the front door behind us as we make our way to Alice's Mercedes.

Fifteen minutes later, we're pulling up outside my favorite restaurant in Seattle. My friends and coworkers at the investment firm, Jessica and Angela, are waiting near the hostess stand. I notice immediately that both of them have changed out of the clothes I saw them wearing at the office today. I give them each a quick hug, before we're led to our table.

As we take our seats, Alice's phone beeps with an incoming text and she pulls it out of her purse, swiping the screen. "Lauren's on her way; she got held up at work."

"See? She'll be wearing her work clothes, too," I point out gleefully.

"No, she's running late because she went home to change," Alice replies, sticking her tongue out at me.

We decide to order a bottle of wine while we wait for Lauren. Alice and I have been friends with her since college; we all attended U-Dub and lived on the same floor in the dorms.

When Lauren arrives, I stand up to hug her, trying not to roll my eyes at the short, tight low-cut dress she's wearing. While I love her to death, Lauren has always been much more… free with her sexuality. She and I are the only single ones out of our little group.

After Angela has complained at length that she had to hire a babysitter for tonight — her husband, Ben, is out bowling with the guys — the conversation devolves into the married women complaining about their respective husbands. It's times like these when I'm happy to be single. I mean, sure I'd like to get married and have a family one day, but if that never happens for me, I'm ok with it.

My priority in life has always been my career, to make something of myself. My dad left when I was only two, and my mom, who'd never gone to college, worked minimum wage jobs in our small hometown of Forks, Washington, barely able to make ends meet. She'd always planned to be a housewife and had nothing to fall back on after the divorce. I resolved early on that that wasn't going to be me.

And I've been successful beyond my wildest dreams. I parlayed my Economics degree to a job at one of the major investment firms in Seattle, making Vice President two years ago. All of my hard work has paid off, but it hasn't left me much time for dating.

"So, Bella," Lauren asks, "How did that blind date turn out last month?"

"Ugh," I groan. "The guy had halitosis. It's too bad, because he looked good on paper."

"Maybe you need to lower your standards," Jessica giggles, already tipsy. She's always been a lightweight when she drinks.

"And date a guy with bad breath?" I ask in horror.

"No, no… I mean you don't have to restrict yourself to guys who make as much money as you do."

"That is not one of my requirements," I protest. "But I do need a guy who's serious about his career; otherwise, I have no idea what we'd have in common."

"When was the last time you got laid, anyway?" Alice asks.

"You know when."

"Oh my God, seriously? Jacob was the last? That was two years ago!"

"I got promoted right after Jacob and I broke up," I defend myself. "I've been too busy to date."

"Who said anything about dating?" Lauren snorts. "A random hook-up can give you all the fun with none of the hassle. Your lady parts have probably shriveled up by now."

"Or maybe grown cobwebs," Alice adds with a giggle. I glare at both of them.

* * *

"What is this place?" I ask, looking up at the cheesy neon sign that reads _New Moon_. "This isn't the bar you usually drag me to."

"This is a special place for your birthday," Alice smiles, opening the car door as the other three girls get out of Angela's car to join us.

Shaking my head, I follow Alice to the entrance of the club. The huge, grumpy-looking bouncer steps aside to allow us in, and Alice insists on paying the ten-dollar cover charge since it's my birthday.

"What the hell is this place?" I ask again as we walk further into the club. Instead of the usual bar and dance floor, there is a raised stage along one wall, with dozens of small round tables placed around the room. The sound system is blaring out dance music from our college days.

And then I see a waiter walk by wearing tight jeans… and nothing else. "You brought me to a male strip club, Alice?" I screech, turning to walk back out.

I don't get very far before she grabs my arm and practically drags me to a table right in front of the stage, with a 'Reserved' sign sitting on top. She shows a nearby waiter her ID and encourages me to take a seat as she orders a round of drinks for the table.

"I can't believe you brought me to a male strip club."

"You need to live a little, Bella! Let your hair down, let loose… whatever," she shrugs.

"Did you see the bulge in that waiter's jeans?" Lauren asks, fanning herself.

"He probably stuffed them with socks," I mutter.

"God, you are such a spoil sport!" she complains and I just shake my head.

Our waiter returns with five brightly colored drinks on a tray, showing bright white teeth as he smiles while he sets the glasses on the table in front of each of us. I can't help staring at his jeans… definitely stuffed.

"What are we drinking?" Angela asks. "This has to be my only one, since I'm driving."

"Sex on the beach," Alice replies with a smile.

Ten minutes later, the emcee, who introduces himself as T.J., takes the stage, announcing the start of tonight's show. He asks the audience to scream, and the piercing sound is nearly deafening. A half dozen guys, all fully dressed, with masks covering the upper half of their faces, take the stage to the pulsing music.

It's like a car crash. I cannot look away from the stage as the men gyrate to the music. One piece at a time, their clothing comes off until they're in nothing but black g-strings.

Holy… I think it'd be too obvious if they stuffed socks in those.

All six guys are hot, and all six are very talented dancers, if I'm being honest. They put on a good show.

But one guy stands out to me above the rest. I'm not really sure what it is about him. He's tall, but rather thin, though he has a six-pack. I can only see the bottom half of his face, but his jaw is sharp and chiseled. His hair looks like it's mostly brown, though under the lights, I can see bits of red and blond. If I had to put a name to the color, I'd call it bronze.

Angela sees where my eyes are directed and smiles. "He's pretty hot."

"He's ok," I shrug — lying my ass off.

I take a sip of my second drink, then look up, noticing Alice and Jessica having some sort of conversation with their eyes.

"I need to use the ladies room," Jessica says, standing up suddenly.

I turn my eyes back to the stage, watching _him_ as the guys stand with their backs to us, shaking their tail feathers. Goddamn, he has a nice round ass for a thin guy.

About 10 minutes after Jessica returns, the dancers go on a short break. We take the opportunity to order another round of drinks.

When the six guys come back, they're dressed in black pants, white shirts and red ties. They each carry a small wooden chair, which they arrange in a semi-circle in the middle of the stage. And then one by one, they step into the audience, choosing seemingly random women to sit in the chairs while the crowd whoops and hollers.

 _He_ is the last of the six to choose someone, and to my horror, he walks straight to our table, holding out his hand to… me!

* * *

 **A/N:** Back with a new fic, as promised! This one is just for fun, so please don't take it too seriously. Moosals has fun tossing out theories as she pre-reads new batches of chapters, so I hope you guys will too!

My banner that moosals made: i71 dot photobucket dot com /albums/i135/Thecommitted/Banners/stripped_banner dot jpg

Chapter titles are 80s song titles, because 80s music ruled! I'm off to Denver this weekend to see Duran Duran in concert, so you may see a few of their song titles pop up on various chapters.

Two more chapters taken from the contest entry will be posted this week, and then there will be a break of 3-4 weeks since I'll be on vacation for the next two weeks. I have 49,000 words pre-written, and I'd like to get it closer to the end before I start posting the rest. Once I pick it up again, the story will be updated several times per week with short chapters that fit the pace of the story.


	2. I Wonder If I Take You Home

**Author Note:** Thanks for the great response to Chapter 1! I saw a number of new names among reviews/favorites/follows.

This is dedicated to my loyal reader **2muchtrouble** , who asked for a cougar Bella.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading, as usual. SarcasticBimbo also read over the contest entry for me. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

Here is the second part of the contest entry.

* * *

 _Chapter 2: I Wonder If I Take You Home_

I shake my head rapidly, but he's having none of it. Grasping my hand in his, he pulls me up out of my seat and onto the stage. "Relax," he whispers in my ear, as he encourages me to take the final chair.

The loud music starts again, and the men begin to dance.

Winking, my dancer kneels in front of me, placing my hand on his tie, which is hanging loose around his neck. I feel ridiculous, but I obediently pull it over his head and he tosses it aside. I expect him to get up and move away then, but he doesn't. Grasping my hands again, he places them at the top button on his shirt.

He's so close to me that I can hardly think straight; I need to get away from him. I lean back, but he reaches out again, holding his hands over mine. 'Take it off,' he mouths, pulling his hands away. Taking a deep breath, I slowly start undoing the buttons.

When I've gotten about half of them, he stands up, ripping his shirt over his head. I'm completely mesmerized, watching the way he moves his hips, when suddenly he tears at his pants and they fall off.

Holy. Shit.

I'm sure my eyes widen comically as he takes a couple of steps closer and his very… full g-string is pretty much right in my face. I swallow thickly as his overtly sexual movements cause a stirring of desire I haven't felt in so long. This man absolutely oozes sex.

Suddenly he turns around, bending over and shaking his ass in my face. And man, is it a nice ass up close. Not to mention, I see his package dangling between his legs. Without my permission, my hand reaches out to squeeze his ass cheek.

He looks at me over his shoulder, winks, then turns around. Placing his hands on the back of my chair, he looms over me, thrusting his groin in my face. I have to sit on my hands to keep from grabbing him.

Smiling widely, he shimmies down to his knees, tugging my hands out from under my thighs and placing them on his chest. As I brush them along his defined pecs, I notice his chest is slick, as if he oiled it. And there isn't a hair in sight, as if he waxes regularly. He smells so good, like coconut. I could seriously eat him up.

As he continues thrusting his groin up toward me, I'm shamelessly touching his chest and tweaking his nipples. Never in my life have I wanted anyone this badly.

But then the music stops, and it's like a bucket of ice water has been thrown over me. It's just a fantasy; this is his _job_. He's doing it for tips, not because he has any interest in me at all.

Helping me out of the chair, he leads me off the stage and back to my seat. To my horror, my companions begin stuffing dollar bills into his g-string.

"Thanks, ladies!" he calls, rejoining the others on stage.

After one last song, they're done, and the emcee announces that after a half-hour intermission, a fresh group of dancers will be out to entertain us. Apparently this talented bunch was just the warm-up.

"Oh my God!" Alice squeals. "He was so fucking hot. How did you keep from tearing his underwear off?"

"Didn't you see me sitting on my hands?" I joke. "God, he smelled ah-ma-zing!"

Our waiter delivers another round of drinks, and I know this needs to be my last one. It seems they've turned the music up even louder and my head is starting to pound.

"What's wrong, Bella?" Angela asks, noticing that I'm just playing with the straw in my drink.

"I'm getting a headache."

Reaching into her purse, she pulls out a bottle, shaking two tablets into her hand. I smile gratefully, washing them down with my drink… probably not the preferred method.

I wait another 15 minutes or so, but I'm not feeling any better. The next set should begin soon, and I don't know if can sit here for another hour.

"I think I need to leave," I tell Alice.

"No! There's a whole other set coming up!" she protests. "And besides, I don't think I'm legal right now," she giggles. "I need at least an hour or two to sober up."

"An hour or _two_?" I shake my head. "I'll just call a cab."

Standing up from my chair, the room seems to sway, and I brace myself on the seat back for a moment.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Angela asks, seeing the state I'm in.

"No, no, I'm sure I'll feel much better with some fresh air," I wave her off. "See you guys on Monday!" I begin winding my way back through the tables toward the door.

Stepping outside, I lean against the side of the building, taking a deep breath of the cool September air. I pull my phone out to call a cab, shoving it back into my purse with a sigh when I learn it could be 15 minutes. I could go back inside and sit down while I wait, but my head is already feeling better away from the pounding bass lines.

"You shouldn't stand out here all alone," a male voice says.

I turn my head, spotting a tall man about 15 feet away from me, wearing loose fitting jeans and a dark colored hoodie.

"You never know what unsavory characters might be hanging around the parking lot of a strip club," he adds, walking toward me.

I'm not far from the door — I could easily go back inside if I need to. Yet somehow, I'm not afraid of this man with his gentle voice.

"Seriously, why are you out here all by yourself?" he asks, finally stopping just a couple of feet from me, his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"I'm waiting for a cab," I explain. "My friends weren't ready to leave yet."

He smiles and my heart starts to pound in my chest. It's _him_ , the dancer! I couldn't see his whole face before, but I'm absolutely sure of it. I'd know that jaw line anywhere. But now that I _can_ see his face… he's even more beautiful than I had imagined.

He looks me up and down, and I feel my face flame at his obvious perusal.

"You're not dressed for a night out," he points out, and my face falls. Is that why he was looking me over?

"I am," I insist. "I'm dressed for the restaurant we went to earlier. I didn't know my friend planned to bring me here afterward," I tell a half-truth, since Alice _had_ warned me about going to a club.

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Who am I to judge? Mind if I wait with you? I can protect you from those unsavory characters," he adds with a grin.

"Don't you have somewhere better to be?" I ask curiously.

He shrugs. "I'm waiting for a friend to pick me up."

He takes another step closer and I finally get a good look at his eyes in the light from the neon sign — they're an absolutely stunning shade of green. I also notice that he looks very, very young; he can't be a day over 25, if that.

I take what I hope is a subtle whiff of him, disappointed that he no longer smells like coconut. He must have taken a shower after he got off stage. I wonder if I should mention what happened inside, acknowledge that I know who he is. He seems different though, more shy than he was on stage… when he was thrusting his barely covered cock in my face.

"Do you mind if I wait with you…"

He pauses and I realize he's waiting for me to fill in my name. "Bella."

"Bella," he repeats, and all of the tingles from earlier are back, hearing him say my name.

"And your name?"

"Oh, um, Ethan," he answers with a small smile.

I hear the sound of a car driving up, almost disappointed to realize that it's the cab I ordered. I don't really want to leave him yet… Ethan.

"Maybe… um… maybe you could ride in the cab with me instead of waiting for your friend?" I suggest hesitantly.

"Are you sure?" he asks, staring down at me.

"Um… I live in Newcastle, so… as long as it's not out of your way?"

"That's on the way to my place," he confirms.

I open the back door of the waiting taxi, sliding across to the passenger side when Ethan follows me inside. I give the cabbie my address, then sit back.

"Shouldn't you, uh, call your friend?"

"Oh, yeah, right." He pulls his phone out of his jeans, sends a quick text message, and puts it away again. Looking up at me, he smiles and I nearly melt. "Thank you, Bella, I appreciate this."

"It's no problem," I reply quietly, smiling shyly. Now that he's in this cab with me, I have no idea what my intentions are. I can't actually… invite him home… can I? Lauren's words about a random hook-up are bouncing around in my brain. Completely sober, I'd absolutely never consider something like this. But it _has_ been a long time for me, and he's so damn hot.

But it takes two to tango, as the saying goes. Who's to say that Ethan has any interest in me? He was just doing his job earlier, I remind myself. I've got to be at least a decade older than him.

I'm startled when he lays his right arm across my shoulders. I turn to look at him, and he smiles at me again, setting his left hand on my thigh. I can feel the heat from his skin through the thin fabric. He begins moving his thumb back and forth as his hand creeps further and further up my thigh.

"Is this ok?" he whispers, and I nod dumbly. Maybe this attraction isn't so one-sided, after all.

I can feel my breathing speed up as I get more and more turned on. We're in the back of a cab, I shouldn't let him do this! But I can't bring myself to tell him to stop.

Ethan's hand on my shoulder moves slightly, his fingers brushing against my overheated neck, and I feel it down to my toes. My mouth parts slightly and I lick my lips, still staring into his green, green eyes. He must see how much I want him.

"Here we are," the cabbie says suddenly, and I jump, my hand flying to my chest. Reading the total on the meter, I dig into my purse for my wallet.

"Keep the change," I tell him, opening the door.

I look back at Ethan, who's watching me intently. "Invite me in," he whispers.

* * *

 **A/N:** Some interesting theories in the reviews to the contest entry, wondering why our green-eyed god gave his name as "Ethan." What do you think?

Should Bella "invite him in"? Sigh… no one commented on my vampire reference lol.

* * *

My to-do list of things to write is longer than my job allows time for. I typed up an outline for this story and put it away for a month, trying to ignore it in favor of other things, but the storyline was just so clear in my mind that I had to write this first. It's not going to be super-long though, and is at least 2/3 written, I think.


	3. Need You Tonight

**Author Note:** Thanks to everyone for checking out my new story! Here is the third and last part of the contest entry.

Thanks again to moosals for pre-reading, as usual. SarcasticBimbo also read over the contest entry for me. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 3: Need You Tonight_

 _Oh God_. I nod, unable to speak, and Ethan climbs out of the cab without a word, slamming the door behind him.

He follows me to my front porch, and I notice the way my hand is trembling as I stick the key in the lock. Pushing the door open, I step inside, Ethan hot on my heels. He closes the door behind us, then spins me around, backing me into the front door.

Before I can say a word, he's caging me in and his lips are on mine, hard and demanding. I kiss him back willingly, letting my purse and keys drop to the floor so that I can wind my arms around his neck.

I feel him tug my blouse out of my pants, and then he pushes me back slightly, his fingers steadily working the tiny buttons. I reluctantly remove my arms from around his neck so that he can push my blouse off my shoulders.

Lifting me up, he pins me to the door with his hips as one hand sneaks behind my back to unhook my bra. He pulls it away, his right hand coming up to knead and massage my breast while his tongue does wicked things to me.

I moan when his lips travel down to my neck, sucking lightly. "Wh-what about you?" I ask breathlessly, feeling the fabric of his hoodie beneath my palms.

Grinning, he lets me drop to the ground, reaching behind his neck with one hand to pull his hoodie over his head. His faded t-shirt is the next to go, and then he quickly undoes the button fly on his jeans, pushing them down and off. I try not to stare at his erection, straining against his dark gray boxer briefs.

Ethan's hands move to my dress slacks, opening the hook and pulling the zipper down. He pauses and I look up at his face, watching the way he watches me, as if he needs some sort of sign before he goes any further.

In answer, I step out of my navy pumps, and he slides my pants over my hips. As soon as the fabric is out of the way, he's lifting me up again, his tongue in my mouth and his hard cock rubbing deliciously against me through the two thin layers of fabric.

As we kiss, I rub my hands up and down his strong back, loving the scent of his cologne, but wishing he still smelled like coconut. His hand is on my breast again and it feels so damn good.

"I need to be inside you," he whispers against my lips. I nod my agreement and he sets me back on my feet, hurriedly moving to pull my lacy panties down and off.

I stare unabashedly as his cock is revealed. Holy. Shit. He's completely shaved — or waxed — making his cock look ginormous.

His strokes his hand over his cock a couple of times, and my first rational thought in a while flutters through my brain. "Condom."

Ethan picks up his jeans and pulls his wallet out of the back pocket. He produces a foil packet, tearing it open with his teeth and quickly sheathing himself in the latex.

Turning back to me, he lifts me up again, burying himself inside me in one powerful thrust. I cry out in a combination of shock and pain. He's larger than any man I've ever been with — and any of my toys.

"Fuck, are you ok?"

"Y-yes," I answer shakily. He doesn't seem to believe me, because he remains still, tenderly brushing my hair behind my ear. "You can move," I tell him finally.

He stares into my eyes for a moment, then slowly pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in. I hold on tight, letting this… stripper… dancer… fuck me against my front door. As soon as I think the words, I'm embarrassed by my wantonness. I've never done anything remotely like this before, yet I've wanted him from the moment I first saw him on that stage. I may hate myself tomorrow, but for now, I've never wanted anything more.

"Feels so good, Bella," he moans, sucking on my neck. He brings one hand down between us, circling my clit, and I cry out in pleasure. "Let me feel you come on my cock, baby."

"Oh God," I cry, feeling waves of pleasure rush through my body moments later. I cling tightly to him, feeling like I'm made of jelly. He's still relentlessly moving his hips, still chasing his own orgasm. God, to be young and have such stamina.

I bring my lips back to his, pulling and tugging on his hair, and that's all it takes. With a long curse, he freezes deep inside me.

I wince as he pulls out, breathing so heavily I'm afraid he might pass out. "Fuck," he mutters. He lets my feet drop the ground and my knees buckle.

Grinning, he catches me, holding me up. "I'm not even close to done with you yet, baby," he promises.

My eyes widen as I let go, trying to stand on my own. I start to pick up my clothes, but he reaches out to stop me, shaking his head. "Leave them. Show me to your bedroom."

After making sure the front door is locked, I lead Ethan up the stairs and into my room, pointing toward the bathroom door so that he can dispose of the condom.

Turning down the bed, I dig around in my bedside table for the hardly used box of condoms that I know is in there — in case he really is planning another round.

Once I've found it, I set it on top of the table then sit on the bed and lie back. I sit up again almost immediately, removing my diamond stud earrings and leaving them next to the box of condoms. I lost an earring in bed once, years ago.

Ethan steps out of the bathroom and crawls on top of me. He bends down to kiss my lips briefly, then begins kissing his way down my chest. He spends what feels like hours teasing my breasts before he continues his downward path.

I let out a long moan when his lips touch between my legs. He licks and sucks and teases me until I'm grasping the sheets tightly, shaking from the force of my orgasm. And then he does it again.

I'm barely coherent by the time I see him reach for the box of condoms. He slides one down his impressive length, then lines up and pushes inside. After two or three thrusts, he lifts my legs onto his shoulders, sliding in deeper than any man has ever been.

I fight to keep my eyes open to watch him. He moves his hips like he does when he's dancing, powerful and rhythmic, and in no time I'm screaming out my orgasm.

Suddenly Ethan drops my legs and wraps his arms around me, rolling us so that I'm on top. I sit up, letting him direct my movements as I ride him shamelessly. I feel like Lauren has invaded my body or something. This isn't me. This isn't me at all, but right now I don't want to be me. I want to be this sexy woman who's being fucked within an inch of her life by the sexiest man alive.

The next time he takes me, I'm on my hands and knees.

The fourth time, he slides me to the end of the bed, standing up and fucking me until I can't even remember my own name, or anything but the feel of his hands on me, the feel of his cock moving inside me.

He comes with a loud grunt, collapsing on top of me. I can hardly move, but I bring one hand up, brushing it through his sweaty hair. Finally he lifts his head, then heaves himself off the bed to toss yet another condom in the bathroom.

This time when he returns, he lies down beside me, pulling me onto my side, until I'm the little spoon to his big spoon. I close my eyes, exhausted and more sated than I've ever been in my life. I know this can't go anywhere, can't be anything beyond this one night, but for tonight… I want to dream that this is my life now.

* * *

 **A/N:** Based on the contest reviews, this story would've won if they'd had a "Hottest" award category.

Sooo… what are we thinking now? How many of you want an "Ethan" of your very own?

Is Bella right that this can't go anywhere? Is Ethan really attracted to her, or is he just looking for a sugar mama? Or does he have some other ulterior motive?

* * *

New chapters will pick up again at some point after my vacation (returning October 5), as soon as I feel I've pre-written far enough along!


	4. Solitaire

**Author Note:** Welcome back to the continuation of _Stripped_! I'm almost done with pre-writing this story, far enough to begin posting. It's relatively short — between 65,000 and 70,000 words in Microsoft Word.

So many theories after the last chapter, though I have to say that you guys are more suspicious than those who reviewed the contest entry.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 4: Solitaire_

When I open my eyes on Saturday, I'm unable to do anything but groan. I feel like I've been run over by a truck. Every inch of my body aches, from my head to my feet. How much did I drink last night?

Rubbing my aching forehead, I blow out a breath and sit up. Ow, ow, ow… The ache between my legs is a stark reminder of what happened last night _after_ the drinking.

Ethan. I let a dancer… stripper… whatever… spend hours ravaging my body.

Holding my breath, I turn to look down at the mattress beside me — only the space is empty. He's not there.

"Ethan?" I call, my voice raspy.

Getting no answer, I swing my legs off the side of the bed. I glance at the clock on the nightstand: 12:44pm. Shit, I never sleep this late! Maybe he had somewhere to be? Or maybe he just got tired of waiting for me to wake up?

I stand up with a groan, taking tiny steps into the bathroom. After downing two Advil, I take care of business and turn on the water in the shower. I love my shower, with its multiple shower heads that hit you from all directions. It was my one extravagance after I bought this house and did some remodeling.

After a long hot shower, I feel at least slightly human. I throw on a pair of yoga pants and a long comfy sweater, then head downstairs.

My entire body flushes with embarrassment when I see the pile of clothes on the floor of the foyer. I gather them up, then notice a small piece of paper flutter to the ground. Setting my clothes back down, I pick up the paper.

My brow furrows as I see that it's a faded, wrinkled receipt for a donut and coffee from Krispy Kreme. It can't be mine, since I only drink Starbucks coffee. I turn it over, and on the back is a neatly printed message: _I'm sorry_.

Sorry he had to leave? Or that he doesn't appear to have left me his phone number?

 _Stupid, Bella_ , I chastise myself. I don't even _want_ his phone number. I always knew this was just a one-time thing. What on earth do I have in common with a 25-year-old stripper?

Sighing, I start my coffeemaker, then take my clothes upstairs, leaving the slacks and blouse in the pile to be dry cleaned, while I add my panties and bra to the laundry basket. The pumps go back to their place on the shoe rack hanging over the back of my closet door.

I walk outside barefoot to pick up my newspaper, then sit down at my granite kitchen island with a mug of coffee and the latest news. It takes me twice as long as usual to read the paper, given how much my mind keeps wandering to last night. Just having the front door in my line of sight is enough for the images to keep flashing in my brain.

I've never done anything remotely like that before. I've never even had a one-night stand with someone I _know_ , let alone a stranger. Yet every single thing about Ethan drew me in.

But it's over now, he's gone — and he's left me no way to get in touch with him. _You know where he works_ , my subconscious says. No! I am not desperate enough to go looking for him. With a long sigh, I turn back to my newspaper.

When I've finally finished reading, I pull out my iPhone, replying to any work emails that need my attention, before I realize I'm absolutely starving. I find a pair of casual shoes at the bottom of the coat closet, then walk the few blocks to the small coffee shop that I frequent, ordering my usual turkey wrap and side salad.

When I pull out my wallet to pay, my brow furrows as I see only two dollar bills and a twenty. I'm sure I've been to the ATM recently. It feels like I should have more than that, but I don't remember how much was in there when I paid the cabbie last night. Shrugging, I put my change away, deciding not to worry about it. It's probably been longer since my ATM visit than I realize. I know how time flies for me; I can't believe it's the middle of September already.

As I eat, my phone dings with an incoming text message. For a brief second, I wonder if Ethan somehow got my number, and my heart starts to pound. But it's just Alice, apologizing for not being able to give me a ride home last night. From her 'I'm never drinking again,' I assume she woke up even later and more hungover than I did. I text her back to let her know it's fine and I'm not upset with her.

And I'm not. I _needed_ that night with Ethan, more than I'd recognized. I have no regrets. And walking back to my house, there's a bit of a spring in my step.

* * *

When I go to bed later that night, all I smell is Ethan. His scent is too distracting to let me sleep, so I get up to strip and remake the bed.

On Sunday, I go through my usual ritual, cleaning my house from top to bottom. I don't really trust anyone else to do it, and I find it almost… relaxing. As I dust my bedroom, I see the box of condoms staring at me from on top of the nightstand. I quickly put it away; Ethan is gone, and I'll probably never seen him again. _I don't want to_ , I remind myself.

When my house is clean and my laundry is done, I drive to Whole Foods to buy my groceries for the week. I always cook a big meal on Sundays, so that I can have leftovers to heat up during the week. I tend to get home from work so late that I never feel like cooking.

After dinner, I sit down with my laptop, following the stock markets in Asia, as it's already Monday morning there. I have to be prepared for what I'll be facing at the office tomorrow. I'm entrusted with investing the money for well over 100 clients. They've put their money and faith in me, and I won't let them down.

* * *

As usual, I'm up at 5am on Monday morning. The disadvantage of living and working in Seattle is that the markets open on Eastern time, so I need to get into the office early.

Once I'm showered and dressed and have had my first cup of coffee, I blow dry my hair, putting on a little bit of make-up. I open the top of my jewelry box, frowning when I don't see my diamond stud earrings in their usual place. And then I remember taking them off after I came upstairs with Ethan.

I look on the bedside table for the earrings, but I don't see them. Of course I cleaned and dusted in here yesterday, so maybe I knocked them off? I get down on my knees, even lifting up the bed skirt to check under the bed, but I don't see them anywhere. Surely I would've noticed the noise if I'd accidentally vacuumed them up, right?

I don't have time to look anymore, I need to get to work. It's not like I don't have other earrings; I just prefer those as something professional and modest for the office. I come back to my jewelry box, poking around, but several pairs that I expect to see are nowhere to be found. I pull out the drawer with my rings, gasping when I see they're all missing. Every last one of them.

I start pulling out every drawer and opening every door, finding just my cheaper pieces of costume jewelry, and an old bracelet that had belonged to my grandmother.

My heart pounding, I try to think about this rationally. Surely there's a perfectly good explanation for this.

But I can only think of one: Ethan.

* * *

 **A/N:** Several of you here and in the contest entry wondered if Ethan and Bella's earrings would still be there in the morning. Now that we have the answer, what are we thinking? What should Bella do now? How many think she was fooling herself about her thoughts regarding Ethan… before she found her jewelry missing, that is?

Updates will generally be three (or even four) times per week, since the chapters are short and the pace is fast. Because of the frequent postings, I may not always be able to reply to all reviews, though I'll get to as many as I can. This week looks like we'll have updates on Wednesday and Friday. They won't be on Thursdays as long as _Vampire Diaries_ has new episodes, since I watch at a friend's house and get home late.

* * *

 _The Man Next Door_ has been nominated for the Top 10 Completed Fics for September 2015 on TwiFanfictionRecs! If you enjoyed it, I'd appreciate your vote! You can vote once a day through the end of October.


	5. Say It Isn't So

**Author Note:** Thanks for the great response! I hope you all have fun with this fic, forming your own theories and trying to figure out where it's going.

My two favorite reviews: "That was an expensive fuck." and "Oh no he di'int!"

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 5: Say It Isn't So_

After the realization that I've been robbed, I stagger backwards until I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. I let this perfect stranger into my house and he stole virtually all of my jewelry. He seemed so… well, not _innocent_ , but he was almost shy — when he was fully clothed, anyway. He just didn't seem like the type of person who could do something like this. How could I have misjudged him so badly?

I rush to pick up my phone to call the police, but then I hesitate. Calling the police will likely mean telling them _everything_ — that I brought a young stripper home and had a night of hot sex with him. I can feel my face flush with embarrassment at just the thought of telling them. God knows how they'll look at me.

But thousands of dollars worth of jewelry are missing — I can't let him get away with this. It's not really the money, since I have my jewelry insured, but I may not be able to make an insurance claim without having some sort of police report.

And so I suck it up, first calling my boss to let him know that I won't be in today. Too embarrassed to explain what really happened, I tell a little white lie that I'm not feeling well. It's almost true — I feel sick at the thought that Ethan was just using me. Of course, maybe I should just be glad he's not a serial killer or I could be in the morgue right now.

Next, I call the local police station to report the robbery. Given the early hour, the dispatcher promises to send someone out in a couple of hours and warns me not to touch anything in the meantime. It's a bit too late for that though.

I usually pick up a Starbucks on the way to the office, but instead, I fix myself another cup of coffee and check emails on my phone while I wait for the police to show up.

Or at least I try to. I can't concentrate. I'm not really sure what I'm feeling right now. I'm angry, sure — angry that Ethan could've stolen virtually all of my jewelry that's worth anything. But I'm also hurt. How could he have done that to me? Even if I never expected anything beyond the one night, I felt like we'd had some sort of connection… something more than just sexual chemistry.

But did we even have that? Maybe it was torture for him to pretend to be attracted to me. Maybe he was just fucking me so that I'd pass out and not hear him while he was robbing me blind. At that thought, I rush to the bathroom, throwing up the meager breakfast I ate.

When my doorbell rings an hour later, I smooth down my dress pants, moving to answer the door. Two cops who both appear to be around my age are standing on my porch.

"Ms. Isabella Swan?" one of them says.

"Yes, that's me. Please come in."

"I'm Officer Stephens," the blond man introduces himself, then points to the dark-haired man. "And this is Officer Yorkie."

"H-hello. Um, why don't we have a seat?" I lead them into the kitchen so that we can chat at the table.

"You reported that some jewelry is missing?" Office Yorkie asks.

"Yes, I was getting ready for work this morning when I noticed. I'm missing several pairs of earrings, all of my rings, and several necklaces and bracelets. Pretty much anything of value."

"Anything else missing?" he asks.

"Not that I've noticed. Oh—wait. Um, maybe some cash out of my purse? I didn't have as much as I'd expected when I got dinner on Saturday."

"Out of your purse?" Officer Stephens asks, raising an eyebrow. "You were home when the robbery occurred? Do you have any suspicions about who may have taken your things?"

"Um, yes, I was here, and yes, I _know_ who did it. His name is Ethan, and he's a dancer at New Moon, a club in Bellevue. I, um, don't know his last name." I can feel myself blushing already. Maybe I should've just gone back to the club and confronted him myself — it would've been less embarrassing.

"Maybe you'd better start from the beginning," he suggests, pulling out a notepad.

"Um, ok. I went out with some friends Friday night for my birthday," I begin. "After dinner, we went to New Moon; it-it's a male strip club. Um, one of the dancers pulled me up on stage with him.

"My friends weren't ready to leave yet when I was, so I called a cab. While I was waiting outside, a man came up to me — the dancer who'd brought me on stage. He said he was waiting for a friend to pick him up, so we talked and… when the taxi arrived, I offered to let him ride with me."

"So you and this… Ethan shared a cab," Officer Yorkie says.

"Yes," I nod. "When we got to my house, I, um, invited him in."

"For… coffee?" Officer Stephens suggests, raising an eyebrow. Shit, they're judging me already.

"We-we had sex," I confess quietly, feeling like my face must be as red as a tomato. "When I woke up on Saturday, he was gone. He, um, had left me a note that just said: _I'm sorry_."

"And no one else has been in your house? A cleaning lady, or anything like that?"

"No, just Ethan. My jewelry was there when I got home from work on Friday, when I took off what I'd worn to work and put it away. He's the only one who could've taken my things."

"Seems like it'll be easy to find him," Officer Yorkie states. "We'll contact the club owner and he should be able to give us a last name and address for this Ethan."

"Great, thank you." I breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing that Ethan is going to get what's coming to him.

"We might need a bit more to make it stick though," Officer Stephens says, causing me to deflate like a balloon. "Some sort of physical evidence. Is there anything around here that he may have touched? Anything from which we could get his fingerprints?"

I frown. "Um, well, I cleaned my house yesterday, but… um… the front door, maybe? I remember he put his hands on the front door." _Please_ don't let them ask me why he did that. "I don't usually wipe that down. And I suppose on my jewelry box upstairs, though I was touching that this morning."

Nodding, Officer Yorkie heads out to their patrol car to get a kit to dust for fingerprints.

"Anything else?" the other man asks. "A condom, perhaps?"

"Umm… I-I emptied the trash can in my bathroom yesterday when I was cleaning, and I took the bags out last night for pick-up this morning. I think the truck would've been by before now; it usually comes before eight."

While Officer Stephens is dusting for fingerprints, he sends Officer Yorkie back out to bring my trash can in. As I suspected, it's been emptied. I'm almost kind of glad; I don't really want them to know exactly how many condoms were in my trash.

"Do you by any chance have photos of any your missing jewelry?" Officer Yorkie asks. "If he's done this before, then he's likely already fenced your stuff at one of the local pawn shops."

"Um, my jewelry is insured, so my agent should have photos from the appraisals," I reply.

"Great, let me leave you my card and you can have your insurance agent fax a copy of the photos to the number on there."

"All right," I nod, taking the business card from him. "I'll contact them right away."

"We'll call you when we find out anything, Ma'am," Officer Stephens says as they leave.

Changing into more casual clothes, I make the call to my insurance agent, then spend the rest of the day working from home on my laptop. I'm too preoccupied to be as productive as usual, but I try to let my work distract me from the thoughts assaulting my brain.

When Officer Yorkie calls me around 3pm, asking me to come down to the police station, I cross my fingers that this means they've found Ethan. My heart starts pounding at the thought of confronting him.

* * *

 **A/N:** Dun dun dun! Have the police found Ethan already?

Bella chose to put aside her embarrassment and let the police handle it, though a number of you said you'd go the club and confront him yourselves!

Poor Bella is afraid that the entire night was a lie. Do you think she's right?

* * *

 _The Man Next Door_ has been nominated for the Top 10 Completed Fics for September 2015 on TwiFanfictionRecs! If you enjoyed it, I'd appreciate your vote! You can vote once a day through the end of October.


	6. Smooth Criminal

**Author Note:** Thanks for reading! I hope you're having fun with this story!

Seems almost no one thinks "Ethan" is really our sexy boy's name. And you're wondering what could've driven him to steal from Bella.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 6: Smooth Criminal_

When I arrive at the police station, Officer Yorkie is waiting for me in the front lobby. "Thank you for coming, Ms. Swan. We brought in the owner of New Moon, Aro Volturi, for questioning. He claims that he has no employee named Ethan."

"What?!" I exclaim, my heart falling. "That-that's impossible."

"That's what he said, Ma'am. So I thought perhaps you could talk with him, describe the man."

"Of course," I nod, and he leads me into a small room. I take in the smarmy-looking black-haired man sitting at the table, looking incredibly put out to be here.

"Mr. Volturi, this is Ms. Swan, the alleged victim. She claims that she went home with one of your dancers, a man named Ethan."

"And as I told you, that's not possible. I don't employ anyone by that name — not a dancer or waiter or anyone else."

"He was in the first group of six dancers to perform," I relate. "He brought me up on stage on Friday night."

"Could you describe what he looks like, Ms. Swan?" Officer Yorkie asks.

"Um, sure. He's tall and thin, with reddish-brown hair, a sculpted jaw and the most amazing green eyes I've ever seen."

"Green eyes?" Mr. Volturi repeats. "The only dancer I have with green eyes would be Tyler Crowley, but he has black hair; I think he's some kind of mixed race."

"No," I frown, "That wouldn't be him. His skin was pale, and he's very good looking, but then I imagine all of the dancers are."

"Ms. Swan, you stated earlier than the man you went home with came up to you outside the club?" Officer Yorkie asks.

"Yes, while I was waiting for a taxi," I confirm.

"And you're certain that it was the same man whom you saw dancing earlier?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"How could you be sure?" Mr. Volturi asks, rather snidely. "They all wears masks on stage."

"Is that true?" Officer Yorkie asks, turning to me.

"Yes, he'd been wearing a partial mask earlier, but I recognized his smile."

"Did he say anything that indicated he'd seen you inside the club?" he asks.

I frown again as I run through the short conversation we had in my mind. "Well, no, I guess not. He said I wasn't dressed for a night out, and… and he knew we were in the parking lot of a strip club."

"Is it possible that you mistook a random stranger for the man you'd seen inside? Perhaps he bore some superficial resemblance to the dancer," Officer Yorkie suggests.

"I mean, he didn't smell the same — he smelled like coconut on stage — but I was sure it was the same guy." Wasn't it? My head is starting to spin. They're making me doubt myself now — did I really take a random stranger home for sex?

"I'm sorry, lady, but the man you're describing doesn't work for me," Mr. Volturi says. I wonder briefly if his boss is somehow covering for Ethan, but why would he?

"So what do we do?" I ask desperately. I can't let him get away with this!

"We'll still run the fingerprints that we collected earlier through all of the available databases," Officer Yorkie explains. "In fact, now that you're down here, it would be good to get _your_ fingerprints, so that we can exclude them when checking. If this 'Ethan' has a previous record, we'll find him."

"Um, all right," I agree, though getting fingerprinted myself makes _me_ feel like the criminal.

* * *

When I return to work on Tuesday, I don't tell Angela or Jessica a thing about Ethan, what happened after I left the club, or the robbery. Lauren would probably cheer me on for taking him home, but I work with these women. Even though we're friends outside the office, I don't want them to think less of me for being used and taken like that.

I finally get a phone call from Officer Stephens on Friday afternoon, letting me know that the pawn shops in the area haven't seen any of my jewelry, and the search of the fingerprint databases came up empty. Ethan apparently has no prior record. As far as the police are concerned, the case has gone cold. They're convinced that I picked up a random stranger and only thought he was the man who'd danced with me.

I know in my heart that that's not true. Ethan _was_ the dancer who brought me on stage; I'm sure of it.

And so after work, I change into more casual clothes and go back to New Moon — alone. I feel kind of skeevy being in a male strip club by myself, but I have to find him and make him pay. If the police won't help me, I'll do it myself.

When the first six dancers come on stage, I can tell right away that Ethan isn't one of them. I didn't pay enough attention to the other five last week to be sure that any of them are the same, though. I sit through the half-hour intermission and then the start of the second set, and again I don't see Ethan, though I do see the biracial dancer that Mr. Volturi mentioned.

 _Of fucking course, Bella._ If Ethan was smart enough to give me a fake name, he was smart enough to quit his job here before someone could track him down. He should still be easy enough to find though — I just need to talk to the manager and ask him who's quit in the past week.

Or, better yet, ask one of the other employees, just in case Mr. Volturi really is covering for him.

"Excuse me?" I ask my hot, shirtless waiter the next time he stops by. "Um, could I talk to you for a moment? It-it's important."

"If you order another drink," he replies with a wink.

"Just get me a Diet Coke."

A few minutes later he's back with my drink. "I'm taking a five-minute break. If we go down the back hallway, it'll be quieter and we can talk more easily."

I nod, smiling as I follow him to a hallway leading toward a back emergency exit. "My name's Seth," he says with a smile. With his dark hair and tanned skin, he's exotically beautiful — though not as sexy as Ethan.

"Bella," I nod. "Um, I'm looking for one of your dancers. He was here last week — he danced in the first set — but he's not here tonight. Do you know who I'm talking about?"

"Sure," he nods. "Anthony. He quit last Saturday. It was strange because he was really good; he was next in line to be promoted to the second group. Everyone always wants to dance in that group — the women are more drunk by that point, so they tip more," he winks.

"Right," I nod, chuckling. "Do you know Anthony's last name, or where I might be able to find him?"

"His last name is James. He kept to himself a lot, so I don't know where he lives or have his number or anything."

"Ok," I reply, disappointed. I dig one of my business cards out of my wallet, along with a ten-dollar bill, handing them to Seth. "If you hear from him at all, could you please call me?"

"Will do," he winks, tucking both items into his back pocket.

The next day, I call Officer Yorkie, relaying what I've found, and he promises to talk to Aro Volturi again, then congratulates me on my detective work. Of course, the police should've been the ones to do it, not me!

A few days later, I get the bad news. While Mr. Volturi did confirm that he had an Anthony James on his roster of dancers, and that he'd quit his job last Saturday, there's little information that he can provide toward finding him. His dancers aren't paid any kind of salary; they make all of their money in tips. The address on file for Anthony James turned out to be for the post office in Renton.

It's another dead end, and I start to give up hope that we'll ever find Ethan — I mean, Anthony — and that he'll ever pay for his crime.

* * *

 **A/N:** So all of you who thought the police wouldn't be able to find an Ethan were right. Then they assumed Bella had just picked up a random guy, but now they seem to believe she was with a stripper named Anthony.

What do _you_ think? Do you think Aro is covering for "Ethan/Anthony"? How should they go about trying to find him now?

Next week we'll have four updates, starting on Sunday. Yes I'll even post on Thursday, since the friend I watch _Vampire Diaries_ with will be out of town.

* * *

 _The Man Next Door_ has been nominated for the Top 10 Completed Fics for September 2015 on TwiFanfictionRecs! If you enjoyed it, I'd appreciate your vote! Saturday is the last day to vote!


	7. Vacation

**Author Note:** Thanks for reading!

Many of you suspect that Aro is somehow involved, or at least knows more than he's saying. And you're all wishing violence upon Ethan/Anthony when Bella finally gets her hands on him again.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 7: Vacation_

 _ **Four years later (August 2014)**_

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Jenks?"

"Isabella, come in, come in," my boss greets me with a smile. "And you know I've told you to call me Jason."

I take a seat in the guest chair in front of my boss's desk, crossing my legs. "What can I do for you, Jason?"

He looks at me for a moment, his lips set in a thin line. "Your numbers for the second quarter were quite a bit off the company average," he states solemnly. "And this quarter isn't shaping up any better."

My eyes widen. I knew it had been a tough quarter, but to get called out on it? Mortifying.

"I'm sorry, Sir," I apologize quietly. "I'll do better, I'll work harder."

He waves his hand. "I don't think it's possible for you to work any harder. When is the last time you took a vacation, Bella?"

"A vacation?" I frown. I honestly can't remember the last time I took more than two days off in a row.

"I think you need a break. You're working too hard, and frankly, I'm getting worried about your health."

"Sir, I—"

"Don't worry about your clients. I'll have the others cover them, just as we always do. You can finish out the rest of the week, and then I don't want to see you back here until after Labor Day, is that understood?"

"Y-yes, Sir," I reply meekly.

I step out of my boss's office in a daze. Two weeks he wants me to be gone? What on earth will I do without work for _two weeks_?

Three hours later, I repeat what he said to Angela and Jessica over lunch in the company cafeteria.

"I think Jason is right, Bella," Angela says, looking at me with concern. "You do need a vacation — a real one. Don't just stay home for two weeks. Go somewhere, relax, have fun."

I frown. "Go where?"

"Anywhere!" Jessica exclaims, throwing her hands up.

"Last year, Ben and I went to California, to Carmel, for our 15th wedding anniversary. Maybe you could go there?" Angela suggests. "It's really laid back and relaxing. There are beaches, a museum, an art gallery, wineries. And if you drive up to Monterey, they have an aquarium, golf courses, and a marina where you can take whale-watching trips… tons of things to do."

And that's how I find myself flying into the Monterey Regional Airport four days later.

I've booked a room for the duration of my stay at a small boutique hotel. It's beautiful, with a luxurious king-sized bed and in-room jacuzzi. Perfect for relaxing, but also very romantic — if I had anyone to bring with me.

I've dated… some… in the last four years, since my night with Ethan — I mean, Anthony. My longest relationship lasted all of three months before he complained that we were never able to spend any time together. Frankly, I wasn't all that bothered. Neither Riley nor Alec, the one other relationship that got as far as having sex, did anything for me in the bedroom.

Perhaps I was being unfair, comparing these 40-something men to my young lover, but I've never been one to settle for _anything_ in life. Why should I settle for a man who can't make me feel the way I now know I'm capable of feeling?

For the entire first week, I don't leave the small town of Carmel-by-the-sea. I walk up and down the beach for hours, visit all of the things that Angela told me about, and spend plenty of time perusing the small, upscale shops.

Finally on Saturday, I drive up to Monterey to visit the Monterey Bay Aquarium, before spending the afternoon on one of the whale-watching tours.

On Sunday, I head back to Monterey, stopping first at a Starbucks for my morning caffeine. I walk along the Monterey Bay Coastal Trail, then to Fisherman's Wharf, returning to the pier from which I'd left for the tour yesterday.

Stopping in at one of the many seafood restaurants for a late lunch, I just take a seat at the bar. I place my order with the bartender, Bree, then sit sipping a glass of wine while I wait for my meal.

"Hey, I'm going on my lunch break now," Bree says as she sets my plate down. "Edward will take care of you if you need something, all right?"

I look toward the far end of the bar, seeing the dark-haired man at the cash register with his back to me. I smile and nod, letting her know it's fine, but then my eyes are drawn back to him. He's wearing the restaurant's standard white polo shirt, the same as Bree, and khaki pants. But the way his ass looks in his pants…

I shake my head. Yeah, no, if he's as young as Bree — who looks barely old enough to tend bar — I could almost be his mother. Scowling at myself, I turn back to my seafood pasta.

"Would you like another drink?" a male voice asks a few minutes later . I look up, staring open-mouthed at—

"Ethan!" I exclaim.

He frowns, taking a step backwards. "My name is Edward," he says, pointing at the nametag pinned to his polo shirt.

"No," I insist, "You're Ethan. Or Anthony James — whatever."

"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else."

"I don't," I reply angrily. "I'm sure your boss, or maybe the local police would be interested to know that you're a con artist and a thief."

He stares at me for a few moments, then runs his hand roughly through his hair. The same bronze hair that felt so good on my fingers.

"Please just give me a chance to explain," he begs. "I get off work at seven, then we can talk."

"If you think I'm going to leave and trust that you'll still be here at seven…"

"What are you gonna do, sit there all afternoon?" he scoffs.

"Yes."

Ethan—Anthony— _Edward_ stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head. "Fine. If you don't need anything, I have other customers." When I don't reply, he turns away, pouring a beer for someone a few stools down. I watch him like a hawk, in case he tries to run. Of course, the view isn't bad either — from the front or back. Is it possible that he's even more good-looking now than he was four years ago?

No! _He stole from you, Bella._ The police were never able to find my stolen jewelry or Ethan/Anthony — though I maintain they never really took my case seriously enough to look that hard. I've always suspected that his boss knew more than he was saying, but I had no way to prove that.

When every lead we followed came up empty, I put everything behind me and moved on; I never expected to see him again. This is all just so surreal. To run into him _here_ , nearly 1,000 miles from Seattle? I mean, what are the odds?

I'm nearly finished with my meal when he comes back. "Do you want another glass of wine?" he asks, gesturing toward my empty glass.

"Trying to get me drunk?"

He rolls his eyes.

"Is Edward really your name, or just another pseudonym?"

"It's really my name," he answers quietly.

"One more glass — it's chardonnay."

I watch as he refills my glass, then takes my empty plate into the kitchen. God, I should've recognized him from his ass.

"Would you like any dessert?" he asks when he returns to me once again.

"No, thanks."

"When Bree comes back, I'll see if I can leave early, ok?" I nod.

Sipping my wine quietly, I wonder what he's going to tell me. What possible explanation could there be for him to do what he did? And do I _want_ to hear it? Do I want to hear that the entire night was just a con job and he wasn't even attracted to me? Do I really want confirmation of that?

I'm startled when he slips the folder with my check beside my napkin. "You can pay me whenever you're ready."

"I'll wait for Bree."

He rolls his eyes again. "Bella…" he sighs, and my eyes widen slightly at the fact that he actually remembers my name.

We stare at each other for a long, tense moment before I relent, grabbing my purse from where it's hanging over the back of my chair. I pull out my Visa card, inserting it into the little pocket and handing it to him.

Just as I'm signing my name, I see Bree return from her break. Edward speaks to her quietly and she nods. He disappears into the kitchen, and a couple of minutes later, I'm startled when he touches my arm lightly.

"I can leave for a while," Edward says.

* * *

 **A/N:** So… we've jumped ahead nearly four years! Bella had given up on finding Ethan/Anthony and moved on, but now she's run into him in California, of all places. As a rule, I don't like coincidences in fic, but this was the always the way I saw the story unfolding. I'm not sure they could've ever had a future as long as the betrayal was still so fresh in Bella's mind.

What do you think Edward is going to tell Bella? Would you have given him a chance to explain or made good on the threat to involve the authorities?

* * *

Thanks to all of you who voted for _The Man Next Door_ on TwiFanfictionRecs! It came in #2 on the list of Top 10 Completed Fics for September 2015! I knew I had no shot at winning, so this is awesome! :)

 _Grad Night_ was nominated for Favorite All-Time Fic in the 2015 Twific Fandom Awards, polls open today. And oh yeah, I'm apparently up for Favorite Veteran Author, so thanks to whoever nominated me. There are at least 50 nominees in each category, so yeah, I have no chance lol.


	8. Neverending Story

**Author Note:** Thanks for reading! I know you're all anxious to hear Edward's story, so let's get to it!

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 8: Neverending Story_

Grabbing my purse, I follow Edward out the door of the restaurant. We walk back to the mainland, taking a seat on a bench facing the bay, a few feet from the bike path. He stares out at the water, not paying any attention to me, sitting nervously a couple of feet away.

"Why did you steal from me?" I ask, deciding to just get it over with.

"Why does anyone steal?" he shrugs. "I needed the money."

"It looked like you were making plenty of money at the strip club."

"Not enough," he answers, turning to look at me. "I owed money to some guys, and if I didn't pay up, they'd threatened to hurt my mother."

I gasp, trying to figure out if he's telling the truth. "Wh-what did you owe money for?"

"Drugs."

"You're a drug addict?" I ask in shock. I _had_ noticed how thin he was — was that why?

"No!" He sighs heavily, running his hand through his hair. "Yes… but I've been clean for three years."

I stare at him for a long moment, trying to process this new information. My head is already spinning… maybe it's the two glasses of wine. Or maybe it's just being near him again after so long. I hate that despite what he did to me four years ago, he can still affect me this way.

"Will you tell me?" I ask quietly.

"You really want to hear my sob story?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I really want to hear it." And I really do. I need to understand why he did what he did.

He stares out at the water again, seemingly lost in his own world. "My dad was a drunk," he begins bluntly. "A mean, violent drunk. He took it out on me sometimes, but my mom got the worst of it.

"By the time I was 14, I was doing whatever I could to escape my shitty life. I'd go to these parties where the kids would raid their parents' medicine cabinet and dump all these random pills in a bowl.

"When I was 16, Dad threw my mom down a flight of stairs."

I inhale sharply. "Was she ok?"

"She was in a coma for three days, but she recovered. The important thing though is that finally, _finally_ , she pressed charges against the bastard. He was convicted of attempted murder and sent to prison for 10 to 15 years.

"After that, Mom started dating the doctor who was working in the ER when she was brought in. They got married when I was 18. His name's Carlisle — he's a good guy.

"It was too late for me though," he frowns. "I was already addicted to the pills. I dropped out of high school, got whatever minimum wage jobs I could, and spent it all on drugs. After Mom made me get my own place and I had rent to pay, I could no longer afford my drug habit and started running up debts.

"Eventually I got the job dancing at New Moon two nights a week and making decent money, but these drug dealers were getting anxious waiting for me to pay everything I owed, and they started threatening my mom. I couldn't ask her for help… I was afraid of disappointing her more than I already had."

"So you stole from me." If he's telling the truth, I can almost understand it, though that doesn't make it right.

"No," he replies, turning to look me in the eye. "I stole from someone else."

My brow furrows as I stare back at him. "I wasn't the first?"

Edward shakes his head. "I also worked as a valet at a swanky restaurant. One day this young woman dropped off a $120,000 Porsche. The guy taking the keys gave them to me to go park it. She had some packages sitting on the passenger seat — ready to be mailed, I guess. I got her address from the label and showed up at her house the next day — this huge mansion on Mercer Island. I don't know what I thought I was going to do," he chuckles humorlessly.

"There was an in-ground pool in the backyard. I knew nothing about pools, but I knocked on her door, offering to be her pool boy.

"I was in her bed two days later. She'd been drinking, complaining about how her husband was so old, and how he was out of town for work all the time… She passed out after, and… I seized the golden opportunity. I took whatever I could grab easily — jewelry and whatever cash was lying around. I hadn't planned on it, but…" he trails off, shrugging.

"I sold her stuff, got enough money to get the drug dealers off my back. But I couldn't stop using, couldn't stop running up debts that I wasn't able to pay." He stares down at his lap and I think I see shame on his face. Or maybe I just want to see it.

"How many… women did you steal from?" I ask quietly.

"Six," he answers. "In about 16 months. You were the third." My heart starts aching at this new information — I was just one of six, nothing special at all. And did he really have sex with all six? I'm not sure I want to know.

"After you, the guilt started to crush me," he continues. "You probably won't believe me, but I really did feel awful for taking your things. The only time I didn't feel like shit is when I was using. It all just started to spiral out of control. I'd get high to make myself feel something other than guilt, I'd run up debts, I'd… steal from someone else, and the cycle would continue."

"What made you finally stop?"

"I got in over my head again. Only this time, instead of threatening Mom, they beat me up, sent me to the hospital. I finally 'fessed up about my drug problem to my parents, but… not the rest of it. Carlisle paid off my debt, under the condition that I go to rehab.

"He sent me here, to a rehab facility outside Monterey. I was there for three months, and I've been clean ever since, I swear. Once I got out, I decided to stay in the area and get a fresh start. I got my GED and started taking some classes at the community college.

"I've turned my life around, Bella," he pleads. "I'm not the same guy who stole from you or those other women. If you tell my boss, or tell the police, you'll ruin my life. Please… I know I was wrong, but it was you or my mom, and she'd been hurt enough. I am so sorry for everything. You didn't deserve what I did to you. None of you did."

I sigh, leaning my head on my hands. I want to believe him, but to just walk away and let him get away with what he did to me? And to know I'm not the only one? I don't know if I can do that.

Hearing his story… I do feel bad for the rough start he had in life and the trouble he got himself into as a result, but… he looked at women as 'marks'. Did he ever want me at all? It doesn't appear that way. And what about the other five women that he stole from? He hurt a lot of people.

"So when did you identify me as your next victim?" I ask curiously. "Is that why you pulled me up on stage with you?"

Edward shakes his head. "I brought you on stage because your friend paid me to do it."

"My friend…" I think back to that night, to Alice and Jessica having some sort of secret conversation. "Jessica — she said she needed the ladies room! But she really went to ask you to bring me on stage?"

He nods. "Well, not me directly. She spoke to one of the waiters to pass the message along, while I was on stage."

"And then you decided to go after me?"

"Not then. I was outside heading to my car when I saw you standing by the door — alone."

"So your story about waiting for a ride was a lie," I realize.

Edward nods, turning to look at me, his eyes begging me to understand. His… _blue_ eyes. Well, maybe a slightly greenish blue, but nothing like the emerald green they'd been that night.

"Your eyes were green," I blurt out.

He nods. "After the first one, I got smart enough to realize that I should probably alter my appearance in some way before I try to steal from someone. I got some green contacts out of my car after I first saw you outside."

I shake my head at the absurdity of it all. I'd fallen for his lines — for his lies — hook, line and sinker.

"There's one thing I still don't understand," I begin. "We talked to your boss at New Moon, and he said he didn't know an Ethan. We later figured out they knew you as Anthony James. I thought you said earlier that you were already dancing before you stole from the first woman. So why did you give a fake name when you took the job at New Moon?"

"I had to," he replies. "I couldn't get hired as myself, since I was underage."

"What?!" I shriek.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just gonna leave this here until Thursday, with poor Bella freaking out.

Ok, you've heard Edward's story, so tell me what you think! Is he telling the truth? If you were Bella, what would you do? She isn't ready yet to just let it go, despite his pleas.


	9. Should've Known Better

**Author Note:** Thanks for reading! You all had a lot to say about the last chapter! This was one of my favorite comments: "Hmmm walk away Bella he is either lying through his teeth or he is trouble. Aint no sex worth that headache lol"

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 9: Should've Known Better_

After Edward's bombshell, I stand up, walking several feet away from the bench. Under… underage? I slept with a _minor_? "Oh God," I mumble, my breathing speeding up. "Oh my God…"

"Bella," Edward says forcefully, surprising me by grabbing my wrists to pull my hands away from my face. "Not… _that_ kind of underage. I was 18 when I got the job, 19 when I met you. But since they serve alcohol, they wouldn't hire anyone under 21."

I stare at him, trying to slow my breathing. He—he was _19 years old_ when I had sex with him? That would make him… "So… you're now…"

"Twenty-three," he answers with a small smile.

I look down at his hands, which are still wrapped around my wrists, and there's this _electricity_ where his skin is touching mine. As ridiculous as it sounds, even to myself, I'm almost disappointed when he lets go, taking a step back.

I slept with a 19-year-old. _Jesus Christ_ … well, I guess that answers the question of how much of his attraction to me was real. None of it, clearly. What the hell would a 19-year-old want with a 35-year-old woman?

"You look like you could use another drink," Edward chuckles, retaking his seat on the bench.

Taking a deep breath, I sit back down beside him, feeling like I might pass out if I remain standing. I hold my head in my hands, waiting for my racing heart to slow.

There's something about what he said… "Is it a good idea for you to work as a bartender when you're a recovering addict?" I ask, peeking over at him.

"I took drugs, Bella; I didn't drink. I never touch that shit." He shakes his head. "Not after my dad."

"All-all right." That's good, at least. "Are you just a bartender, or do… do you still dance?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "Friday and Saturday nights, at a club called Twilight, up in Santa Cruz. It's good money," he shrugs. "How long are you in town? You should come see me dance next weekend," he suggests with a grin.

"I don't think so," I reply immediately.

"Will you still be here?" he persists.

"Yeah, I leave next Sunday," I admit.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" he asks curiously.

"Vacation."

"Just you?"

I look over at him, my brow furrowing. Is he trying to ask if I'm here with a man? _Stupid, Bella._ He's probably just wondering if I came with one of my girlfriends. Or… maybe he wants me to be here alone so he can try to steal from me again.

"Just me," I confirm, not giving him any other information.

"I'm off work tomorrow — maybe we can do something together? I can show you things that only locals know about. We can start over," he proposes.

"I don't think so, Eth—Edward."

He nods, giving me a sad smile. "Are you gonna turn me in? You hold my entire life in your hands."

We gaze into each other's eyes, and… I want to believe in him. What he did was wrong, but I understand _why_ he did it, why he needed the money so badly. Turning him in now, if he's truly turned his life around… I don't know if I can do that. Four years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated, but the anger and embarrassment have faded somewhat since then. My insurance company reimbursed what my jewelry was worth; the only real damage was to my pride.

"Prove to me that I can trust you, Edward."

"How?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"What's your last name?"

He stares at me for a moment, then reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet. He slides his driver's license out and hands it to me. _Edward Anthony Masen_. That explains one of his fake names, at least. I cringe at the birthdate: June 20, 1991 — I got my first driver's license that year.

Wordlessly, I hand his license back to him. I know it took a lot of trust _in me_ for him to show me that. I could easily ruin him now.

"I'll do whatever you need — whatever it takes to convince you to trust me. Please, Bella," he begs. "I'm so sorry for everything. I'm not that guy anymore. I don't want to say something trite like the drugs made me do it, but… I wasn't thinking clearly. I know what I did was wrong, I know that. I'm sure some part of you would like to see me punished, but… I'll always have to live with the guilt over what I did."

 _Oh hell._ Maybe I'm an idiot to do this, but I can't ruin this young man's fresh start.

"I won't turn you in," I whisper.

"Thank you," he says fervently, scooting closer and wrapping his arms around me. He holds me tightly and the scent of his cologne brings back memories of that night. I stiffen at the realization and he pulls away, letting me go.

I have to get away from here before I do something stupid. Standing up, I look down at him, the way he's watching me carefully. "Have a nice life, Edward. Stay out of trouble."

* * *

I spend the rest of the week in Carmel, minus one day driving down the Pacific Coast Highway to Big Sur. I stay out of Monterey, and I most definitely, _definitely_ do not drive up the coast to Santa Cruz.

Until Saturday, when I ask the front desk clerk at my hotel for suggestions for a daytrip for my last day, and she suggests the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. I spend the afternoon there, and it turns out to be a great suggestion. I ride the Great Dipper wooden roller coaster, play arcade games, and remember what it's like to have _fun_.

Tired of seafood and Mexican, I stop in at a pizzeria just off the Boardwalk for dinner. As I walk off my pizza, I visit Neary Lagoon Park. On my way back to where I parked my rental car, I see it — the Twilight strip club where Edward said he'd be dancing this weekend. Unable to stop myself, I walk up to it, and the sign advertises a show starting at 9pm.

"At least you're dressed more appropriately tonight."

I jump, turning around at the sound of Edward's voice. He grins at me, dressed in dark wash jeans and a faded gray t-shirt that totally shows off his biceps.

"I-I just ran into this place on the way back from my walk in the park." It's the _truth_.

He takes a few steps closer until he's looming over me. "Are you coming in?" he asks. "I can get you in for free," he adds with a wink.

"I think I'd better just go." I start to turn away, but he grabs hold of my arm.

" _Stay_ , Bella. Come watch the show."

I look up at his face, even more hauntingly beautiful with the extra four years. I have no idea why he wants me to come in, but I realize that I do want to watch him dance again. He's nearly impossible for me to resist.

"On one condition…"

"What?" he grins. "Am I not gonna like this?"

"Do not under any circumstances bring me up on stage with you."

He laughs, smiling that beautiful smile as he nods. "Deal."

His hand on the small of my back, Edward leads me to the entrance. He nods at the bouncer, then tells the woman collecting the cover charges that I'm with him.

Inside, the music is loud, as I expected. The stage here is in the center of the room, with small round tables surrounding it. Along the walls, there are long padded benches, with narrow rectangular tables in front — for setting drinks, I suppose.

"I gotta go get ready," Edward speaks into my ear. "Sit anywhere you want — I'll find you."

I watch him walk away from me, then take an empty spot against the wall, ordering a Cosmopolitan from my shirtless waiter.

I'm on my second drink when the emcee announces the start of the show. A dozen guys take the stage — no masks this time — standing three to each side. Somehow Edward manages to find my side.

Once the guys start dancing and the spotlights turn on, I tell myself that he can't see me anymore, and I allow myself to stare, as mesmerized by him as I was the first time I saw him dance. If anything, he's only gotten better. And sexier, now that he's not quite so thin.

By the time he's down to his g-string, it's all I can do not to drool. I watch the ladies at the front tables stand up, stuffing bills into his g-string, and I want to rip their hands off. And then I chastise myself for my possessiveness. Edward isn't mine. I don't _want_ Edward to be mine.

The guys dance to several more songs and then suddenly sirens sound and red and blue lights — like you'd see on top of a patrol car — flash around the room. One by one, the guys hop off the stage, but instead of going down the hallway to the dressing room, they stop in front of various tables.

It doesn't take a genius to understand why Edward was so agreeable when I asked him not to bring me on stage.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, Bella agreed not to turn him in. Based on last chapter's reviews, not all of you would agree with that. How many of you have changed your minds?

Bella just can't seem to resist Edward, letting him convince her to watch him dance again. But what else will he convince her to do?


	10. Strip

**Author Note:** Thanks for great response to the last few chapters! I appreciate all of you willing to trust me with this story.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 10: Strip_

I'm already shaking my head when Edward reaches me. He easily crawls up onto the table in front of me, preening and gyrating from his knees. The women near me reach over to add dollars to his collection, but he only seems to have eyes for me.

Moving off the table, he's suddenly on his knees on the bench seat, straddling me. I look up at his face, staring into his not-quite-green eyes, and _God_ , I want to touch him, but I can't.

Edward straightens up, and suddenly his barely covered cock is just inches from my face. Practically the only thing I _didn't_ do that debauched night was have him in my mouth.

Moving his hips, he brushes his cock against my breasts. His brow is pinched, his face the picture of concentration, and it almost seems like he's trying to control himself. And that turns _me_ on even more.

But then I remind myself that he can't possibly be attracted to a woman my age. He's just acting, putting on a show for everyone.

When the music ends, he slides his feet to the floor, bending down to place a quick, chaste kiss on my surprised lips.

"Come with me," he begs, holding out his hand to mine.

Two strong drinks are enough to make me do it, to let him lead me through the screaming crowd to the hallway with the other dancers.

"I can't go in there!" I protest when we reach the door to what I assume is the dressing room.

"Bella, I assure you, these guys don't care if women see them naked. Half of them are gay, anyway," he shrugs. Before I can protest further, he takes my hand in his, leading me through the doorway.

It's hard not to stare at the mostly naked men as Edward leads me toward a small couch. "Sit here while I go take a shower, ok?" he asks quietly.

Before he can do that, I lean in, taking a whiff of his chest, then step back, frowning. "You don't smell like coconut."

"What?" he chuckles.

"At New Moon you smelled like coconut."

"Oh. Sorry — we use a different oil here. Will you please wait?"

"I'll wait," I answer quietly, taking a seat. I think I notice some sort of tattoo on his back as Edward walks over to a locker, pulling out his street clothes, then disappears through another door.

While he's gone, I try to stare at my hands and _not_ the various naked backsides — and a handful of dicks — that pass through my line of sight.

"So how do you know Edward?" one man asks, stopping his bare legs in front of me.

I look up bravely, relieved to see that he's at least wearing boxers. "Um, I met him before he moved down here."

"Oh," he frowns. "I thought you might be like his aunt or something."

As he walks away, I can feel my face flaming. His _aunt_ … that's only marginally better than wondering if I'm his mother.

"Hey," Edward calls and I look up to see him smiling at me. He's dressed in the clothes I saw him wearing earlier, his hair still damp from the shower. "These assholes give you any trouble?"

"Well, I saw more dicks than I have in the last decade," I grumble, making him laugh out loud.

"They were likely doing that on purpose — sorry," he giggles. "Are you ready to go?"

"Go where?" I ask, standing up. If he thinks I'm going home with him…

"I know a place. Come on." Once again, he puts his hand on the small of my back as he leads me out of the dressing room and out a back exit, and I wonder what the hell I'm doing following him.

We walk in silence toward the Boardwalk, stopping at a small coffee shop. "It's about the only thing open this late," he explains, holding the door for me.

I order a Chai tea, since it's not Starbucks, while Edward gets a huge slice of cherry pie and a bottle of water. We grab an open booth, sitting down across from each other.

"Thanks for staying for the show."

I shrug. "You're very talented, Edward."

"Thanks," he whispers, looking more shy than I've ever seen him.

"How long do you plan to keep dancing?" I ask. He was born to dance, it seems.

"As long as I can. I won't be young and pretty forever," he adds with a wink.

"What, um, what are you studying in school?"

"I'm just taking all of the basic core courses right now. I haven't decided on a major," he replies, shoveling a bite of pie into his mouth. He chews, then looks over at me. "What do you do? For a living, I mean."

"I work at an investment firm. I invest clients' money for them."

"Nice," he whistles.

"How much did you make in tips tonight?" I ask curiously.

"I don't know, I haven't counted." He pulls a large zippered pouch out of his back pocket and hands it to me. "You can count it. Sounds like you're good with money," he winks.

I really shouldn't do this, but curiosity wins out, and I open the pouch, pulling out the enormous stack of wadded up bills. I start separating them into piles of $20, my eyebrows rising higher and higher as I move past five stacks.

"You made $184! You weren't even dancing for that long," I comment.

"We do two shows on Fridays, so I make more then," he explains, sliding his empty plate away. "And during May and June."

"What happens in May and June?"

"Bachelorette parties," he grins. "Thinking of changing careers?"

"Right," I chuckle. Like anyone would pay to see a nearly 39-year-old woman strip.

Edward picks up my left hand suddenly, his thumb rubbing back and forth over my knuckles. "Still no ring," he says quietly.

I yank my hand out of his. "I haven't found 'the one' yet." He does not need to know about my pitiful dating life. "Wh-what about you?"

"What about me? I don't have a girlfriend, if that's what you're asking. I'm not a monk, but… I'm not a manwhore."

I decide to end this line of questioning now, before I can get too jealous over a man I don't even want. I never expected someone so sexual to be a monk, but the confirmation bugs me a bit, despite how much I don't want it to.

I take the last sip of my tea, then set the cup back down, licking my lips. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he nods. "Anything."

"Did you take money out of my purse?"

Edward's eyes widen for a moment, and then he nods sheepishly.

"Why didn't you take all of it?" I ask curiously.

He shrugs. "I didn't… I didn't want you to go to pay for something with cash and not have any. I knew what that was like. I'd pay you back," he adds, nodding toward the stacks of bills, "But I kinda need that money for rent."

"Keep it," I tell him. "I don't need it."

"Please believe that I never wanted to hurt you, Bella."

"But you did," I answer, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "It wasn't the money; I make plenty of money. I just… you made me doubt myself, doubt my judgment. I'd never… done anything like that before," I whisper. "But I trusted you and… you abused my trust, Edward."

He hangs his head, staring down at the tabletop. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I know I brought it all on myself, but I didn't know what else to do — I was desperate."

"I understand that, I do, but… That doesn't make it hurt any less. To know that it was all an act — that whole night was an act, to get me to pass out so you could steal from me."

"What?!" he shouts, getting the attention of the handful of other patrons.

I'm crying silent tears by this point, and I reach up to angrily brush my tears away. "Don't deny it."

Edward tears at his hair with both hands, his elbows on the table. "Out of all of my… victims," he lowers his voice, "You're the only one I would've slept with regardless."

He lifts his head, and we stare into each other's eyes. I want to believe that so badly; would he have said it if it wasn't true? He's a good liar — or he _was_ — but his eyes look nothing but sincere.

Reaching out, he takes my right hand and turns it palm up. As he lightly traces one finger over my palm, my entire body breaks out in goosebumps. "I'm not _that_ good of an actor, Bella."

I inhale sharply. Maybe it wasn't all in my head. At the realization, that tiny broken piece of me feels like it's been stitched back together.

Edward's phone buzzes, breaking the intense moment between us. He pulls it out of his pocket, typing out a quick message, then sets it on the table.

"Do you have somewhere to be?" I ask, motioning to his phone.

He shakes his head. "Bree wanted to know if I could trade shifts with her tomorrow."

"Oh. I'd better get going anyway. I'm actually staying in Carmel, and I have a 6am flight to San Francisco."

"Are you ok to drive?"

"I'm fine," I nod. "I just had the two drinks earlier."

"Could I…" He trails off, then pushes his phone over toward me. "Your number? Please?"

I'll probably never understand why I'm doing this, but I slowly pick up his phone, entering my first name and cell number in his Contacts. I tell myself I don't have to answer if he ever calls or texts — not that I expect him to. And if I get his number in return, I can… keep tabs on him somewhat. Make sure he stays out of trouble. Yeah.

Once I'm finished, Edward takes his phone and calls my number, and I silence my own phone. "Now you have mine," he says with a small smile.

Standing up from the booth, we walk out of the coffee shop together. By some unspoken agreement, Edward walks with me back to my car. I hit the unlock button on the keyfob, and the headlights flash.

"Thank you again for not turning me in," he says quietly. "I know I don't deserve your kindness."

Nodding, I open the car door. As I'm about to sit down, he reaches out, pulling me into his warm embrace. His fingers brush gently down my arms as he pulls away. "Goodbye, Bella."

"Goodbye," I whisper, almost to myself.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, Edward didn't get her back into bed, as many of you thought. He didn't even try. Of course some of you were cheering her on to get some no-strings vacation sex. And some of you still wanted her to hit him.

Bella finally got her confirmation that the entire night wasn't a lie — do we believe him? And now she's going back home, though Edward does have her phone number…

Updates will stick with every other day for the next little while.


	11. Back in the High Life

**Author Note:** Thanks for reading! Most of you think Edward will reach out to Bella first.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 11: Back in the High Life_

 _January 2015_

"So, Ben's got this new coworker, Paul…" Angela begins as we're eating lunch at an Italian restaurant a couple of blocks from work. Since my vacation, I've tried to make the effort to get out of the office more, instead of grabbing something to-go from the cafeteria.

"Not interested, Ang."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

I sigh heavily; I'm so on to her. "Next you were going to tell me that he's single and he's cute and ask if I would like to come over for dinner, to get to know him in a casual environment with no pressure. Not interested."

"Bella, you will never find a man if you don't even _try_ ," Jessica points out.

I set my fork down with another long sigh. "For the past six years, I have met every cousin, every new neighbor, every _man_ that you or any of my other well-meaning friends has tried to set me up with. For the most part, I've enjoyed meeting them, but there's just nothing _there_.

"I want… passion. I want a man I can't take my eyes off of. Someone who makes my entire body come alive with just a simple touch. Someone that I feel like I'll never get enough of," I explain passionately.

Both of my friends stare at me, their mouths gaping, and I feel myself blushing. "Have you actually experienced that kind of passion, or have you been reading too many romance novels?" Jessica finally asks.

"She doesn't have time to read," Angela adds, before I can respond.

I roll my eyes.

"We just want you to be happy, Bella," Angela implores.

"I want that too," I shrug. "But I'm not going to settle."

"No one is asking you to settle," she insists. "How do you know you won't feel that kind of spark with Paul? How do you know you won't feel it with someone unless you meet them?"

Of course they're right. Someone that one of my loving, well-meaning friends has picked out for me could easily be 'the one' just as much as any random guy I meet on my own.

Maybe I should go for it. It's time I got back on the horse, so to speak. Just because my last two relationships went nowhere doesn't mean that the next one won't be different.

I'm just about to agree to meet Paul when my phone dings with an incoming text message. I pull it out of my purse and enter my passcode, my eyes widening at the message.

 **In Seattle 4 few days. Want 2 get 2gether? – E**

Edward… I can feel my face heat up and my heart start to pound — which is fucking ridiculous. We haven't had any communication in the more than four months since we exchanged phone numbers. And now his first… gesture is to send me a text without so much as a hello? And with text speak? As if I needed another reminder of just how young he is.

I close the message, aware that my friends are eyeing me closely.

"Bella's got a secret boyfriend," Jessica says with a smirk. "That's why she doesn't want to meet this Paul."

"What?! I do not."

"You didn't see your face just now," Angela adds.

"I assure you, I do not have a boyfriend."

"But maybe you want him to be," she says, nodding toward my phone. "I'll leave you alone about meeting Paul… for now. But you'd better introduce us soon."

"There's no one to introduce you to!" I protest.

"Whatever you say, Bella," Jessica chuckles, turning back to her meal.

After I got back from my vacation, I did try to verify as much of Edward's story as I could — mostly out of a lingering fear that if I had been played again. Using the information that he gave me, I was able to find old newspaper articles reporting that an Edward _James_ Masen was charged with, and later convicted of the attempted murder of his wife, Esme Platt Masen, in 2008. The articles mentioned a minor son who'd found his mother unconscious at the bottom of the stairs — Edward hadn't told me that part.

I also found a well-regarded drug and alcohol addiction recovery center located in Pacific Grove, not far from Monterey. Of course I called them to ask if Edward has been treated there, but as I'd suspected, they wouldn't give me any information.

Short of speaking to his family — and I'd feel like a stalker if I did _that_ — there's really nothing more I can do. It appears that he was telling the truth, as far I can tell.

While I'm admittedly intrigued as to what's brought Edward to Seattle, I have no intention of getting together with him while he's in town. I still don't understand why I gave him my number in the first place, but when we said our goodbyes — I meant for good.

* * *

The second text from Edward arrives about three weeks after the first.

 **Staying in town, got job at Eclipse. Seems more ur speed? ;) Cum see meeee! Xo**

What the hell is he _doing_? Is he trying to flirt with me?

And what the hell does that comment about Eclipse mean? More my speed? I know it's a fairly new, upscale club. Is he trying to say I'm upscale? Or that their clientele is older?

And why has he moved back to Seattle? He seemed happy with his life in California, going to the community college, working at least two jobs.

I realize the only way to find out the answer to my questions would be to go see him, or at least text him back and ask. But I can't do that. I won't do that. No good can come from getting… involved with Edward Masen, I'm sure of it.

* * *

 _April 2015_

"Oh. My. God. I want to marry this dessert," Alice moans, taking a bite of her fried cheesecake drizzled with honey. We're having dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. There's no particular reason, except that her two boys are at an overnight sleepover birthday party and her husband, Jasper, who's a lawyer, is stuck at the office preparing for a new trial that starts on Monday. Alice has been a stay-at-home mom since her oldest son was born, and she takes every possible opportunity for 'adult time.'

"You're already married, Ali," Lauren laughs.

Alice flips her the bird and we all laugh.

"So what do you say to taking this party elsewhere?" Lauren suggests, sipping her margarita. "Maybe we can go back to that strip club we went to for Bella's birthday a few years back."

"No way," I reply immediately.

"We could go to the usual club," Alice says, "Though to be honest, I'm starting to feel a little old for it." Well, will wonders never cease?

"What about that new place, Eclipse?" I throw out… my mouth forming the words before my brain can shut it down. What the hell am I doing? For the last three months, I've tried not to think about Edward's return to Seattle. He hasn't contacted me again, yet it's always there in the back of my mind, this burning curiosity to know why he's here… and how he's doing.

"Oh, I've heard good things about that one," Lauren nods. "Sounds good to me. Ali?"

"I'm in," she agrees with a smile.

Twenty minutes later, we're walking through the door of Eclipse. The atmosphere definitely gives off an upscale vibe. The patrons seem to be mostly in their 30s or 40s, not their 20s.

My God, Edward must be prime cougar bait for the women here.

Fuck — why do I care?

I can't stop myself from looking toward the bar for him. I don't see him though. For all I know, he no longer works here, or maybe Saturdays are his nights off.

We somehow manage to find a high-top table for the three of us. I'm still sneakily trying to spot Edward, but I'm not able to see much through all of the people between us and the bar.

After we've placed our drink orders with a waitress, Lauren practically starts fanning herself as she looks around the room.

"So many hot guys… they look like they have money."

"You have money," I snort. With her personality, Lauren does quite well for herself as a real estate agent.

"I know," she smirks. "I didn't actually mean that as a compliment. There's something about a blue collar guy who's good with his hands…"

I shake my head just as our waitress returns with our drinks on a tray. She sets a small, folded-up piece of paper down in front of me, and I look up at her questioningly.

"Just read it," she winks.

I unfold the paper, that now familiar feeling overtaking me as I read the neatly printed words: _Aren't you going to say hi?_

* * *

 **A/N:** He's baaa-acckkk!

What do you think has brought Edward back to Seattle? Will Bella go talk to him? _Should_ she talk to him? And how on earth is she going to explain this to her friends?


	12. You Spin Me Round

**Author Note:** Thanks for the support! We reached 1,000 reviews with the last chapter!

I think almost everyone wants Bella to go talk to Edward, even if you don't all trust him yet.

Just for clarification, since there were some questions — Eclipse is an upscale bar/nightclub, not a male strip club.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 12: You Spin Me Round_

"What is that?" Alice asks, nodding toward my hand.

"Ummm…" Shit, how the hell do I explain? I wrack my brain for a long moment, then give up. "I'll be back in a few. I-I need to make a call." _Ugh, way to go, Bella._

Heading toward the bar, I first spot Edward as I get about halfway there. Dressed in a black button-down shirt that shows off the paleness of his skin, he's busy pouring a beer from the tap for someone. As if he senses me, he looks up when I get within about 10 feet, giving me a dazzling smile.

He points out an open stool at the bar, and I take it. Almost immediately he's in front of me, looking more beautiful than ever. His hair is longer than the last time I saw him, with a floppy piece hanging over his left eye. He also doesn't appear to have shaved in a day or so, and the sexy scruff makes him look a bit older.

"Even for this place, you're a bit overdressed," he smirks, and I frown. My dress has a blousy off-white top with a short gold skirt; I'd thought it was perfect for a night out.

"Nice to see you, too," I reply sarcastically.

He smiles widely. "Is it? You've been ignoring my messages for three months. I'm wounded." He places his hand over his heart and I roll my eyes.

"What's brought you back to Seattle?" I ask bluntly.

Edward laughs, grinning. "I'll let you ignore me — for now. I came back initially because my great-grandmother died."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I frown.

"It's fine," he assures me. "She was 95. I came for the funeral and all of that jazz. I intended to go back to California, but…"

"Edward!" the other bartender calls. He looks her way, then nods.

"Duty calls. I'll be back as soon as I can — don't leave."

Shaking my head, I wait for Edward to come back, wishing I'd brought my drink. I'm not really sure what's going on here. He's acting like we're old friends or something. As he scurries back and forth grabbing bottles or pouring beer from the tap, I find myself staring at his ass in his black slacks. _Stop it, Bella._

"Back," he says suddenly, leaning his arms on the bar in front of me. His sleeves are rolled up the elbow, revealing his sexy forearms. "Where was I?"

"You said you intended to go back to California…"

"Right," he nods. "My mom guilted me into staying, saying how much she missed me, yadda yadda. I couldn't even claim I had no place to live. My great-grandma's son had been renting out her condo for her, once she went into the assisted living center, but the tenant had just decided to leave, so… It's decorated in the 'early old lady' era, but it's cool enough," he shrugs.

"I went back to Monterey just long enough to quit my jobs and move out of my apartment, though my roommate was pissed that he needed to find someone else to split the rent. I'm planning to start at U-Dub in the Fall, so I can get a degree and be a real grown-up," he grins.

"If you're happy, then I'm happy for you, Edward," I tell him sincerely.

"Thanks," he smiles almost shyly. "So why didn't you answer my texts?"

"I… I don't know why I even gave you my number," I admit. "We aren't… friends."

"We could be." He reaches out, taking my hand in his, his pretty blue eyes gazing into mine. He's only holding my hand lightly, but just the feel of his soft, warm skin on mine… Fuck! Why is it so easy for me to fall under his spell?

" _Why?_ " I question.

"I _like_ you, Bella. I always have."

"You-you—" I sputter. But he stole from me!

"Hey," he says softly, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. "I probably need to get back to work, but we aren't finished."

I nod shakily. "And I need to get back to my friends, though I think I need your talent at making up stories to explain where I've been."

He smirks a little, rolling his eyes, and I know he's not offended.

When I get back to the table, it's just Alice, no Lauren in sight. "What happened to Lauren?" I ask, as if I don't know.

"Dancing with a hottie."

I nod, sliding onto my chair and picking up my drink; that's what I figured. "I hope you haven't been sitting alone long."

"Just a minute or two, it's fine," she smiles, then narrows her eyes. "Now tell me about the hottie bartender you were talking to."

It's like time freezes. Alice _saw_ me talking to Edward? I'd thought there were too many people between us and the bar. There goes my story of running into the ubiquitous 'old friend.'

"How do you know him?" she continues.

I snort. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Alice purses her lips, but she seems to accept that I'm not willing to explain right now. I just don't know what to say. Even if I just give her the bare minimum truth — that I had a one-night stand with the stripper who pulled me on stage — I'm afraid of her reaction. Alice is generally pretty open-minded, but she's surely going to wonder why she's only just now hearing about that four and a half years later.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a deep voice asks, his hand on the back of my chair. I instinctually lean forward a bit.

"I'm good," I reply, holding up my glass, which is still over half full.

"And what about you?" he asks, nodding toward Alice.

"I'm driving, sorry. And married." She not-so-casually flicks her left hand.

"All right," he chuckles, turning back to me. "How about a dance then?"

He's not really my type, with his long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, but he seems nice enough. And I can't deny that there's some part of me that hopes Edward will see me dancing with another man. But it's rude for me to leave Alice alone.

"Go on, Bella," she says, before I can use her as an excuse.

Nodding, I smile at the man, slipping out of my chair. "I'm James," he introduces himself, his hand on the small of my back as he leads me to the dance floor.

"I'm Bella… but I guess you knew that," I chuckle nervously.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." I have to work really, really hard not to roll my eyes at that tired old line.

James and I dance to two mid-tempo songs, before heading back to the table to finish our drinks. We find that Lauren is back, along with a dark-haired man she introduces as Demetri. The five of us chat for a while and I learn that James owns his own business.

When our waitress comes back, we get another round of drinks for the table — Alice just gets a Sprite. Lauren and Demetri eventually go back out onto the dance floor with their bottles of beer, leaving just the three of us.

A few minutes later, Alice's phone rings and I can tell from her end of the conversation that something is up.

She sighs as she ends the call. "Blake threw up, and Jasper is _still_ at the office, so I need to go pick him up. I hate to cut our night short," she frowns. "Will you be able to get a cab home? Or go with Lauren? Sorry I asked you to ride with me."

"I'll be fine," I assure her with a smile. "I don't mind cabs." From the glimpses I've gotten of them out on the dance floor, I assume Lauren will be going home with Demetri soon.

"Nice to meet you, James," Alice says, waving as she takes off.

"Did you want to maybe get a seat at the bar?" he asks. "We'll lose our table when we get up to dance again."

"Um, sure," I agree. I wanted Edward to see me with another man, after all.

We find two bar stools on the end, and I see the surprise on Edward's face when he notices me talking to James. He doesn't look happy, and I'm not sure why that makes _me_ happy.

"Do you know that bartender?" James asks suddenly. "He keeps looking over and staring at you."

"N-no, never seen him before," I lie, turning to watch Edward as he mixes a drink in a tumbler. He smiles, then pours the liquid into a glass with a flourish. I'll bet he makes great tips.

I watch as he sets the drink in front of a pretty young woman, smiling and chatting with her for a moment. Shaking my head, I pick up my drink, taking another sip. I'm with James right now, not Edward. I should be talking to him, not staring at Edward.

No matter how good he looks.

"Would you like to dance again?" James asks several minutes later, when my glass is almost empty. Nodding, I finish the rest quickly then stand up.

Whoa… I feel a bit dizzy for a moment, and I steady myself by grabbing the back of the stool.

"Are you all right?" he asks.

"Um, yeah, I must've stood up too fast." I didn't have a margarita with dinner, so I've only had the two drinks; I should hardly be tipsy.

A slower song starts to play as we reach the dance floor. James pulls me close and I try to smile at him. I'm not really feeling any attraction to him at all, but I don't want to hurt his feelings. If he asks for my number though, I'm not sure what excuse I'll give. I attempt to think of one, but my head seems to be a bit fuzzy.

As the song progresses, I start to feel… odd. It's getting kind of difficult to concentrate. "Um, I think I should sit back down."

I pull away from James, large black spots dancing across my field of vision. I _really_ need to sit down.

And that's the last thing I remember.

* * *

 **A/N:** Go on, call me a cliffie bitch. At least you'll get the next chapter on Friday… the 13th, haha.

So, Bella got up and talked to Edward. What did you think about what he had to say? Alice let her be for now, but that won't last forever.

Even if she won't admit it to herself, Bella tried to make Edward jealous by dancing with another man. But what's wrong with her?


	13. Holding Out for a Hero

**Author Note:** Wow, quite a response to the last chapter! Keep it up!

Most of you think James spiked Bella's drink. And that I am evil. But look, over two hours early! Blame a damn 8am meeting.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 13: Holding Out for a Hero_

I wake up to the worst headache imaginable. I'm lying on something soft, which seems strange for some reason I can't pinpoint. I slowly open my eyes, trying to focus, and… I'm in my own bedroom?

Rolling onto my back, I moan at my pounding head.

"Bella? Are you awake?"

At the sound of a male voice, I shoot straight up, staring across the room at a shirtless Edward, sitting on my window seat. Looking down, I realize I'm naked — except for my bra and panties. I quickly pull up the sheet to cover my breasts, shifting experimentally to try and determine if there's a telltale ache between my legs.

I breathe a quick sigh of relief when there's not.

"Edward?" I rasp. "What-what the hell happened? How did we get here? Why am I _naked_? Why are _you_ naked?"

As he stands up, I see he's not completely naked; he's wearing black pants. Walking over toward me, he takes a seat near the foot of the bed, turning slightly to face me.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asks.

I rub at my forehead; my memory is all foggy. "Dancing," I answer slowly. "I was dancing with… with… James," I remember. "I was feeling weird and was going to sit down."

"You don't remember anything after that?"

I wrack my brain, but I remember nothing until the moment I woke up in my own bed. It's a scary feeling. "No," I shake my head. "What happened, Edward?"

"You passed out, just in front of the bar. That… James caught you as you fell, before you could get hurt. You woke up about a minute later. He insisted that you were fine, just a little drunk, and that you were his girlfriend, and he was going to take you home."

"Girlfriend?!" I shriek. "I'd just met him!"

Edward frowns, nodding. "I didn't believe him when he said that. I just… I figured you would've told me. He insisted he was gonna take you home, so… I got the bouncer to intervene, and then I brought you home myself."

"I don't remember any of that," I whisper.

"Bella, I… I think James may have put something in your drink," Edward says gently. My eyes widen. "I didn't see him do anything, but… as far as I saw you only had two drinks. That shouldn't have caused you to pass out and not remember anything this morning."

My eyes widen even further as I piece it all together. James put something in my drink? And then tried to leave the club with me? What was he planning to do to me? Somehow I think it's much worse than what Edward did.

I wrap my arms around myself, starting to feel more self-conscious.

"You were in and out of consciousness as I was driving you home," Edward continues. "I wanted to take you to the hospital, but you insisted you just wanted to go home. By the time we got here, you were completely out of it, so I carried you inside and put you to bed."

"And took my clothes off?" I yell. I was really hoping I'd gotten naked on my own.

He shrugs. "I left your sexy little underwear on. It's not like I haven't seen every inch of you before. It's not like my tongue hasn't tasted every inch of you." Despite everything, a shiver runs through me at his words.

"I took your dress off so you'd be more comfortable. And I slept on the window seat, not in bed with you. I didn't want you to wake up during the night and freak out."

I stare over at Edward. That was actually quite considerate of him… though I wish he would've put at least a t-shirt on me. But everything else he just said — he's sort of my hero.

"It's still only like seven in the morning — do you want to go back to sleep?" he asks.

"I really need some Advil." I rub my head again. "And a shower." And to pee, but I'm not going to tell him that.

He nods. "Ok," he says softly. "I'll have breakfast ready for you when you come downstairs."

My eyes widen again — he can cook? "And coffee."

"And coffee," he agrees.

I turn toward the edge of the bed, but then remember that I'm nearly naked. "Um, could you…?"

Edward rolls his eyes, smirking as he stands up, grabbing his shirt from the dresser before walking out of my bedroom. I put my feet on the floor, carefully making my way to the bathroom. After downing some Advil, using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I turn on the water in the shower.

Twenty minutes later, I'm feeling slightly more human as I head downstairs in yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt. I'm halfway down when I smell something amazing… smells like bacon. Walking into my kitchen, I find Edward in front of the stove, tending a frying pan.

"The coffee should be ready," he says, turning toward me. His shirt is on, but it's unbuttoned. I try not to stare … but now that I'm not so disoriented, I look for long enough to notice that he has hair on his chest. I wonder if that means he's not stripping?

"I didn't know how you like it," he continues, getting my mind out of the gutter. "Jesus, that is the most complicated coffeemaker I've ever seen — took me five minutes to figure out how to use it."

I give him a small smile as I pour myself a cup of coffee, then add sugar and creamer. Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I notice that Edward has made up two place settings.

Within a couple of minutes, he's placing a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me. "Um, I wanted to do something a bit fancier, but you have no food."

"It's Sunday."

"So?" He looks adorably confused.

"I do my grocery shopping on Sundays," I explain, taking a forkful of egg. "These are good," I mumble, my mouth full. "Why are they so good?"

"Cooked them in the bacon grease," Edward grins. "My roommate in California was a cook at a diner and gave me some tips."

He sits down to eat, then looks up at me, a frown on his beautiful face. "This is the way our first morning after should've gone." I stare at him, beyond shocked at his comment. I guess in a way, it's sort of a do-over for us — minus the night of hot sex. "Of course, I couldn't cook worth a damn back then," he snorts.

"This is really great, Edward," I tell him quietly. "Thank you."

"I kinda owed you. Oh, that reminds me — I can… I can pay you back."

"Pay back what you stole, you mean?"

He nods. "I, um, got a little money from my great-grandma."

I smile softly. "My jewelry was insured, so… keep the money, use it for your education."

"My stepdad agreed to start paying for my school since I'm doing so well. At least let me pay you back what I took from your purse. Do you remember how much it was?"

"I—"

"And don't tell me you don't need it. _I_ need to give it to you."

"Ok," I whisper. "Um, I honestly don't know the amount. You left me with $22 and I'd paid the cabbie $20 the night before. It'd been a few days since I went to an ATM, and I always take $200 out. Maybe $120?"

"I don't have that much cash on me, but I'll get it to you when I get a chance," he vows. I'm stuck on the fact that he's so sure we'll see each other again.

Once both of our plates are clean, Edward takes them, standing up and rinsing them off in the sink.

"You don't have to do that." He shrugs, going back to his task.

When he's finished, he refills my coffee, then stands in front of me, biting his lip. "So, um, I could still take you to the hospital. They might be able to figure out what James gave you and then you can press charges. I was only worried about _you_ last night and never thought to check if your glass was still on the bar."

I look up at Edward, my mouth falling open. If James was able to slip something into my drink without me seeing it, there's a good chance he's done this before. And that he'll do it to other women.

But I remember how _not_ seriously the police took me when I told them I'd been robbed, and I don't know that I want to deal with that again. In the end — thanks to Edward — nothing worse than a killer headache happened. But if he hadn't been there…

Of course, if he hadn't been there, I may never have spoken to James. I may never have suggested going to Eclipse in the first place.

"I'm not sure I want to deal with that," I whisper. If he's smart, James gave me something that the hospital won't be able to detect — at least not 12 hours later. And then the police will never take this seriously, with no proof.

"Ok," Edward replies just as quietly, stepping forward and kneeling beside my chair. He reaches up slowly, cupping his hand over my left cheek. "How do you feel now?"

"The Advil worked, so… I'm just a little tired," I shrug.

Edward's blue-green eyes stare into my own, his hand still on my cheek, and I almost feel hypnotized. "I didn't mean physically."

How do I feel _emotionally_? I don't really know what to tell him. It's all kind of raw right now, and I'm still in a bit of a daze. It'll probably hit me more later.

"I feel… a little stupid," I admit. "I mean, I know all the rules about never accepting a drink from someone or leaving one unattended. I don't think I did that; Alice was always there to watch it. Somehow I must've turned my back—" Oh. I was staring at Edward for God knows how long while James and I sat at the bar. _Fuck._

"I-I feel vulnerable and weak… like a victim. I was a victim once before, and I didn't like it at all." He frowns, looking like I slapped him in the face. But I can't help how _he_ once made me feel.

"And I feel lucky. Lucky that you were there to save me."

Edward smiles at me, his thumb caressing my cheek. "I'm glad I was there."

Clearing his throat, he stands up then sits in the chair beside me, reaching for my hand. "Um, I know my timing sucks, but… I can't _not_ ask you — would you go out with me?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Yeah, another cliffie, but this one isn't as bad, right? How should Bella respond to Edward's question? Should she give him a chance?

So, all of you who guessed that James spiked Bella's drink were right. Edward got to play the hero, and Bella got to wake up to a half-naked Edward. Did she make the right decision to not go to the police again? It's harder than you might think to Google info on roofies so apologies if I got anything wrong. My search history must look awfully incriminating sometimes.


	14. Wanna Be Startin' Something

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing my Cougarella! Most of you want her to say yes to a date with Edward.

Opinions were mixed on whether or not Bella should've gone to the police about James. Most understand her reluctance, even if you don't agree with it.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 14: Wanna Be Startin' Something_

My mouth gaping, I stare at Edward. He couldn't possibly have said what I just heard.

"I know this is a little backwards," he chuckles almost nervously, "Given that we've already had sex."

"Go out with you?" I ask in shock, dropping his hand. My heart starts pounding madly. "Why would you ask me that?"

"What do you mean, why?" he asks. "Why not?"

"Last night you said you wanted to be friends."

"Last night I _wanted_ more, but I was afraid I'd freak you out. I was afraid to tell you that… my mom didn't have to work all that hard to convince me to stay in Seattle — not when it also meant a chance to spend more time with you."

My eyes widen and I stare at him in shock. He moved back to Seattle — at least partially — for me?

"Don't you remember what I said, Bella?"

"Said when?" I whisper, my head starting to spin. Why does he always make my head spin?

"At the coffee shop in Santa Cruz. I told you that I would've wanted to sleep with you even if I wasn't try to steal from you. I wasn't lying to you then. I've been attracted to you from the first time I saw you."

I shake my head. "You can't be attracted to me."

"Of course I can!" he exclaims. "You're an attractive woman. You're beautiful and smart and kind, and…"

"And you are 23 years old!" There is no way a man his age — hell, he's barely even a man — could be interested in a woman _my_ age. Unless… he doesn't actually know…

"So what?" he retorts.

"Do you know how old I am, Edward?"

He shrugs. "I know you're older than I am, but what does it matter?"

"How old do you think I am?" I ask him directly.

He shrugs again. "Early 30s, I don't know. I've never really thought about it since it doesn't matter to me."

I give him a sad smile. "I'm 39. The day we first met… my friends took me out for my 35th birthday." I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Still think it doesn't matter?"

"Yes," he insists, looking like he has no intention of backing down.

"I can't go out with you, Edward. You and I…" I shake my head. "We would never work. We're too different." I've always wanted a man who's serious about his career, and he doesn't even have a college degree!

"You mean I'm not good enough for you."

"I didn't say that," I quickly protest.

"You didn't have to; I can see it in your eyes. I'm an ex-drug addict who dropped out of high school and you're a successful businesswoman."

"You're not the type of man I usually date," I allow. "But that doesn't mean that I don't consider you good enough. It just means that we're in such different places in our lives that I can't see it working out. Not to mention the 16-year age difference. Or… what you did to me four and a half years ago."

"I've apologized for that, Bella," he pleads, taking both of my hands in his. "Just tell me what to do to make you forgive me."

"I… I do forgive you," I whisper. "But that doesn't mean that I can forget it. Saying you're sorry doesn't make it all go away. It doesn't keep me from worrying that it's really just my money you're after _now_."

Edward stares down at our joined hands, looking rather glum. Finally he looks up at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I swear to you, Bella, I'm not that guy anymore. I asked you out because I'm attracted to you — that's it, no ulterior motive." He stops, sighing. "You know, I noticed you didn't say that _you_ aren't attracted to _me_ — that you don't want me."

I run my hand through my hair, swallowing thickly. I can't lie and tell him I'm not attracted to him, because he'll see right through me. How can I phrase it so it's not a lie?

"I don't want a relationship with you."

"How about just a date then?" he asks hopefully.

"A date that ends in the bedroom?" I raise an eyebrow.

"If that's what we both want," he grins, his smile falling when my response is to stare back at him.

"Friends then?" he amends, and I nod.

"I think I'd like that," I whisper.

"Friends can hug each other, right?"

I roll my eyes, but I stand up. Edward quickly does the same, enveloping me in his strong arms. He's hugged me before, but this time I allow myself to breathe him in and enjoy it.

"I'm so glad I was there for you," he whispers, kissing the top of my head.

"Me too."

Pulling back, he takes my hands in each of his. "I'll get out of your hair, but… promise me you'll take it easy today. Leave your grocery shopping until later, all right?"

"I promise."

He keeps hold of my right hand as we walk toward the front door. "Oh, if you didn't see it, I left your purse on top of your dresser after I put you in bed last night."

"Thanks," I smile. "For everything."

"If I text you again, you'll answer me?" he asks sternly.

"I'll answer you."

Letting go of my hand, he reaches up to caress my cheek again. "Friends can kiss each other goodbye, right?"

I take a step backwards, rolling my eyes again. "Goodbye, Edward."

Once he's gone, I lean my back against the front door, exhaling heavily. I can't deny that a small part of me wants to go upstairs and check my purse, check my jewelry box. But the more rational side of me knows that if Edward had taken anything, he likely wouldn't have stuck around until I woke up.

I can't believe he actually asked me out — and that he didn't back down even when he found out I'm nearly 40. He _can't_ truly want to be with me, no matter what he says. With his looks and charm, he could have his pick of younger women.

There's no denying that Edward and I have — or at least _had_ — some serious sexual chemistry, but that's all it can ever be. And it's not something I can act on again.

* * *

Once again, I find myself keeping something serious from everyone around me. I don't want their sympathy, or their pity. I don't want to be judged for being stupid and careless. I don't want to be looked at as vulnerable. In the end, there was no harm done. Still, I think I'll be turning down Alice's suggestions to go clubbing for the foreseeable future.

Edward has been texting me at least twice a day since he left my house. Sometimes it's to check up on me, sometimes it's to make me laugh. I don't always respond, but occasionally I do. His texts never fail to put a smile on my face. I'm glad I've decided to be friends with him.

Just over a week after the incident, Lauren, who was showing a condo downtown, meets Jessica, Angela and me for lunch at a restaurant near our office. She's almost over the top buzzing about her new man, the guy she met at Eclipse that night. Apparently she had left before I passed out, because she knows nothing about it.

"What happened with that guy you were dancing with?" she asks as we eat. "He was kinda cute."

"I wasn't attracted to him, Lauren." It's not a lie. I should've listened to my initial instinct to lean away from his arm on my chair.

"Alice said you were up at the bar for over five minutes talking to the hot young bartender."

"Alice has a big mouth," I grumble.

"This wouldn't be the same mystery guy who texted you a few months back, would it?" Jessica speaks up.

"What if it is? What if I've got something going with a 20-something bartender?" Shit, I have no idea why I said that. I don't _want_ anything with Edward.

"I'd say good for you," Lauren chuckles. Of course she would.

"I don't know if you're joking," Angela says, "And I certainly think you could use a little fun in your life, but… I would hope that you wouldn't use a fling with a hot young guy as an excuse not to keep trying to find a more appropriate partner."

I grit my teeth. There is nothing going on between Edward and me, but what if there was? Why is he not 'appropriate' for me? If the situation were reversed, few people would bat an eye over a 39-year-old _man_ dating a woman Edward's age. Hell, _she'd_ probably be called a gold digger.

Once we've finished eating, Lauren says goodbye and the three of us walk back to our downtown office building. As we wait for the walk light to cross the street, I see Edward walking my way, crossing the opposite street.

Only he's not alone. He's with a tall, gorgeous blonde woman.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, Bella turned him down, despite his best efforts to convince her otherwise. She's agreed to be friends though. But who's that with Edward?

What do you think of her friends' comments now that they know Edward was the mystery texter?

Sometimes it's a struggle to find an 80s song title that fits a particular chapter, and sometimes the chapter practically names itself, like this one. The next one did, too. If you can guess the title, I'll send you a little teaser! Your hint: it was a #1 hit in the mid-80s.

 **Evelyne** , hope you're ok, dear.


	15. Can't Fight This Feeling

**Author Note:** Thanks for all the nice comments!

Congrats to readers **blue022** , **Ninkita** , **emmjaebee** , **sherylb** , **EdwardsFirstKiss** , **MIRosebud** , and **LaPumuckl** , who all correctly guessed the chapter title — REO Speedwagon's 1985 #1 hit, _Can't Fight This Feeling_. Madonna's song _Who's That Girl?_ was the most popular incorrect guess.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 15: Can't Fight This Feeling_

Despite the fact that we're just friends, I feel a strange flutter in the pit of my stomach at the sight of Edward with another woman. Someone much more 'appropriate' for him.

"Bella!" he calls when he spots me. I stare at how amazing he looks in his black jeans, gray t-shirt and black leather jacket as he hurriedly makes his way over to me.

"I'm on my way back to work." I'm internally freaking out that Angela and Jessica are _right there_ — and I'm unreasonably pissed off about his beautiful companion. He sure got over wanting _me_ quickly.

The people around me are starting to cross the street, so I turn away from Edward. He reaches out to grab my wrist. "Hey… talk to me for a minute?"

I swallow thickly, nodding. "You guys go on ahead," I tell my gaping friends. Edward is clean-shaven today and must look _extremely_ young to them.

"I'll be right there," he calls to the blonde woman, and I watch her walk away for a moment, before he leads me away from the street corner, over to the side of the nearest building.

"Why do you look mad at me?" he frowns. "Was I not supposed to talk to you in front of your other friends?"

"That's part of it," I admit. "And they're more than friends — I work with them."

"What else is wrong?" he asks, brow furrowing.

"Who-who's _your_ friend?"

He stares at me for a moment, before a slow smile spreads across his handsome face. "Are you _jealous_ , Bella?"

"What?! No! I'm not jealous. I just… it's awfully fast, isn't it? For a guy who was asking _me_ out just over a week ago."

He laughs, grinning at me. "You _are_ jealous. What, you don't want me but no one else can have me either? Is that it?"

Scowling, I start to leave when he stops me again. "Bella, that's my sister-in-law."

"Your—what? You've never mentioned a sibling."

"Carlisle had a son from his first marriage. His name is Emmett, and he's a trainer for the Seattle Mariners. That's his wife, Rosalie. She works just down the street, and we're meeting for lunch to plan a party for his 30th birthday next weekend.

"See?" he asks, placing his hands on my waist. "No reason for you to be jealous."

"I-I wasn't jealous." God, it's getting hard to think with him so close to me. He smells amazing, as always.

"I think you were. I think you want me a lot more than you're willing to admit." He takes another step closer, his nose skimming along my throat. I tilt my head back to give him better access… I'm so going to hell over this.

"Bella," he says breathily, then begins lightly sucking on my neck. "Say you'll go out with me."

"I-I can't," I whisper.

Edward pulls back, just enough to look me in the eye. "You still don't trust me."

My mouth falls open as I gaze back at him. _Do_ I trust him? Though I believe his story about why he stole from me, I didn't trust that I wouldn't get burned if I let myself get involved with him again.

But then he saved my life — or at least saved me from being raped. And I can't forget that. "I'm beginning to trust you," I whisper.

"Then give me a chance," he pleads. "We were good together, weren't we?"

I nod silently, remembering how good his skin felt sliding against mine. "We were," I reply shakily.

God, when he's this close, all of the reasons why this is a bad idea don't seem to matter. The fact is, I'm sexually attracted to Edward. I feel like I could drag him to my car and take him home right now, so he can have his way with me. Hell, we could get it on in the backseat right there in the parking garage, for all I care.

Maybe it was fate that I ran into him in Monterey, fate that's put him in my path. I'm still learning who he is as a man today, but I know that agreeing to a… date with him would allow me the chance to get to know him.

It doesn't have to be anything more than that. Going out with him doesn't mean I have to marry him one day.

Angela's words keep repeating in my brain though. Is Edward my excuse to take a step back from the dating scene? Or would it be allowing myself to have a little fun, to do what I want without worrying about what anyone else thinks?

"One date," I acquiesce. "And then we'll see."

A beautiful smile takes over his face. "You won't regret this," he vows. "I'll let you go back to work now, but I'll text you with a plan, ok?"

"Ok," I nod, giving him a small smile. Before I can walk away, he pulls me into his arms, kissing my cheek.

"Go make some money for your clients," he winks, walking away. I watch the nice view for a moment, then shake my head, walking back to the office. What the hell did I just agree to?

* * *

Within five minutes of my return to work, Angela and Jessica are in my office, the door closed behind them. It's times like these that I wish our windows opened, so I could disappear.

"Ok, first of all, that boy is _fine_!" Jessica squeals. "If you've got something going on with him, good for you!"

My mouth drops open. "Good for me?" You mean, they're _not_ going to tell me that I'm wasting my time or we look ridiculous together?

"Is that the bartender?" Angela asks.

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Yes, he works at Eclipse."

"So… are you two doing the horizontal mambo?" Jessica asks, waggling her eyebrows ridiculously.

"No!" I protest. Our first time was vertical. Though the other three…

"What _is_ going on with him then?" she asks.

"He-he's been trying to get me to… go out with him. I finally said yes."

"Oh my God! He looks like he'd be freakin' awesome in bed," Jessica says. "You deserve to have a little fling with him, seriously."

"How did you two meet?" Angela asks.

"He used to tend bar at a restaurant, and he waited on me when I sat at the bar." It took me the entire walk back — and ride in the elevator — to think up that half-truth.

"It's sweet that he's spent so much time trying to get you to say yes," Jessica says with a smile. Sweet… I hadn't thought of his persistence as sweet, but I can kind of see that. "Who was the supermodel with him though?"

"His sister-in-law."

"Bella," Angela begins, and I brace myself, certain that I'm not going to like what she has to say. "There's no doubt that he's gorgeous, but you can't seriously be thinking that the two of you have a future?"

"No, I'm not thinking that." Honestly, I'm not. "I like him though, and for some unknown reason, he seems to like me. What's wrong with exploring that?"

"Nothing's _wrong_ with it, per se. But do you really want to waste your time on something that can't possibly go anywhere? You're not getting any younger."

I grit my teeth, reminding myself that I'm at work, and I can't scream. "Maybe the end game doesn't always have to be marriage. Maybe I just want to enjoy myself."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," she says, smiling sympathetically.

"I'm a big girl, Ang. Don't worry about me."

"I want deets after you get him in the sack," Jessica says, grinning.

I shake my head, trying not to smile. If it gets that far between us again, I'm not sure I want to blow their minds by telling them how awesome _I already know_ Edward is 'in the sack,' as they put; though… it might be kinda fun to make the two old married women jealous.

"Go on, I have work to do!" I smirk.

* * *

 **A/N:** Bella finally agreed to a date! Edward knows how to pull out the big guns, doesn't he? Where do you think he should take her for their date?

Angela was raising a lot of ire among my pre-readers. Do you think she has a valid point?

Next update on **Friday** , then we'll continue with every other day.

BTW, the offer of a teaser for guessing the next chapter title is always open, but I'll point it out whenever I think you guys would have a decent chance at getting it. To guess the next one, you'd have to figure out what their date will involve. The hint for it was in this chapter…


	16. Centerfield

**Author Note:** Thanks for the response to this story! Most of you are happy that Bella is giving Edward a chance.

Congrats to readers **MIRosebud** , **sherylb** , and **the real teacher** , who all correctly guessed the chapter title — John Fogerty's _Centerfield_. Several more guessed what they'll be doing on their date, but couldn't get the song.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 16: Centerfield_

Thanks to the birthday party for Edward's stepbrother, Emmett, it takes almost two weeks for us to make plans for a date. We're going to a Sunday afternoon baseball game, using tickets that Emmett was able to get for Edward.

Waiting for him to pick me up, I'm unbelievably nervous. I change my top five times. I want to look hip enough to belong with Edward, but not like I'm trying too hard. It's a tough line to walk.

When the doorbell finally rings, I'm in the downstairs bathroom, primping my hair. Again. And worrying that my jeans are too tight.

I rush to answer the door, then stop, taking a deep breath.

"Hi, Edward," I try to greet him casually as I open the door. And then I stare at his appearance — black jeans and black leather jacket covering a plain white t-shirt. Who knew just a plain white t-shirt could look so good?

"Finally she dresses appropriately," he grins, looking me up and down. "Are you ready?"

"Let me just grab my purse." Edward waits for me in the doorway, then steps out onto the front porch while I lock up.

I'm a bit shocked by the old maroon-colored Grand Prix parked in my driveway. His car must be 20 years old.

"Maybe we should take my car?" I suggest. I'm not sure his will make it all the way downtown.

"It's not gonna break down," he chuckles. "Who knew you were such a snob?"

"I'm not a snob!" I protest. "Except with coffee."

Edward laughs, holding the passenger door open for me. As I buckle the seatbelt, I look around at the interior of the car. It appears to be well taken care of, at least.

"You've been in my car before, you know," he says as he gets himself settled.

"I don't remember that," I reply quietly. I don't want to think about that night — or what could've happened — anymore.

He backs out of my driveway, and I try not to stare at his profile. God, he just gets more good-looking every time I see him. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, and I realize the car smells like Edward. Not helping my situation.

"So Emmett got us really good tickets, only like 17 rows back, between home plate and first base."

"Cool," I reply with a smile. "So, um, he's a trainer for the team, you said?"

"Yeah. Emmett had planned to go into medicine like his father, but then he decided he didn't want to be in school that long. He studied physical therapy instead."

"It must be a dream job to work for a sports team," I comment.

"Emmett was big into sports, so yeah. He played high school football until he broke his ankle really bad and needed surgery. He's fine now, but the doctors said his ankle would always be weak and he wouldn't be able to play competitively again."

"That's too bad," I murmur. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks, his brow furrowed as he turns to look at me.

"Did you ever play any sports?"

"Yeah, right," he snorts. "I didn't exactly have the type of father who'd throw a ball around with me in the backyard."

"Oh," I frown. "Of course. Um, was he always a… like that?" I amend, not wanting to call his father 'a drunk.'

"In my earliest memories, he wasn't," he replies softly. "I can't pinpoint exactly when it changed."

"So… where did you learn to dance?" I ask curiously.

"Drama club."

"Drama club?" I repeat. I imagine that's also where he learned his acting skills.

"Yeah… I joined in middle school. They had a lot of after-school rehearsals, and I'd do anything to stay out of the house. For the first few years, we just put on plays, but my sophomore year, we also did _Grease_ , the musical. I was Kenickie."

"So you sing, too?" I ask with a grin.

"Not well," he smirks.

Reaching downtown Seattle, Edward parks near Safeco Field, leading me up to the gate. "Have you been to a game here before?"

"A few times," I reply. "My company will sometimes get one of the luxury suites and invite large groups of associates, for parties or whatever."

"Nice," he grins. "But that's no way to experience a baseball game."

Once we're inside the park, I let Edward lead me around, his hand on the small of my back. "So, everyone knows that one of the iconic things to do at a baseball game is eat," he grins. "But it's not just hot dogs. You can also get everything from burgers, tacos and pizza to sushi… whatever you want."

"I like Mexican food."

"Tacos, it is," he replies with a huge grin.

We place our orders and Edward insists on paying for the overpriced food. I carry the tacos and nachos to our seats, while he carries a holder with our drinks.

"Wow, these really are good seats," I observe as I try to figure out how to sit down without dropping anything. Edward hands me my Diet Coke and I set it in the cup holder beside me.

I'm mesmerized watching his lips fit over the straw as he sips his own drink. He smirks when he catches me staring.

"Um, do you… do you ever drink alcohol at all?" I ask curiously. Pretty much everyone else we passed by in the concourse was carrying a large beer or two.

"I _have_. I mean, I had to try things when I was learning to be a bartender. I just… it's already proven that I have an addictive personality, and with a father who's a drunk, I just don't want to take any chances."

"That makes sense," I nod.

"It's not like I wanted to be an addict. I just wanted to escape. I didn't understand that addictions of all kinds can be genetic." He looks sad, and I reach over to rub his arm in comfort.

By the third quarter… inning… it becomes abundantly obvious that I know absolutely nothing about baseball, much to Edward's amusement.

"How could such a smart woman be so clueless?" he grins.

"Shut up!" I elbow him good-naturedly. "It's not like sports were ever on in my house."

"Why not? Didn't your dad like sports?"

I frown. "My, um, dad left when I was two. It was just me and my mom."

"I'm sorry," Edward says softly, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb back and forth. "Do you have any kind of relationship with him now?"

"Not really," I shrug. "He paid the bare minimum child support and sent a gift for my birthday or Christmas. He lives in Phoenix with his new wife and family."

Edward puts his arm around my shoulders, hugging me close, and I smile at him. I guess we kind of have shitty fathers in common, though his definitely takes the cake.

The Mariners end up losing the game 4-2 in the 11th inning. There's some sort of kids' day promotion, with a screening of _The Lego Movie_ after the game.

"Do you want to stay for the movie?" Edward asks with a grin.

"Shouldn't I be asking _you_ that?" I chuckle.

"Why? Oh, are you making a joke about my age?"

"Mayyybe."

"I think you like me young," he grins, pulling me out of my seat and into his hard body. "I seem to recall you making more than one comment that night about my, uh, recovery period."

I stare at him, certain that my face must be as red as a tomato. I didn't think I said anything like that _out loud_!

Smiling widely, Edward takes my hand, claiming he doesn't want to lose me in the crowd, as we make our way back to where he parked.

"Do you want to grab dinner?" he asks as we fight the traffic leaving the ballpark.

I grimace. The game was pretty long, but I don't think I could eat another bite yet, not after that kettle corn we shared in the sixth inning. "I'm still stuffed. Besides, this is usually the night I cook something big, so I can eat leftovers all week."

"You could cook for me," he grins. "Or do you not have any food, since it's Sunday?"

"I have no food," I chuckle. "I didn't make it to the store before you came over."

"We could go now," he suggests. "Where do you shop?"

"Whole Foods… the one in Bellevue."

"Why does that not surprise me?" he mutters, rolling his eyes.

"What does that mean?"

"Just… you're rich," he shrugs.

"I'm… comfortable. But I've worked hard for everything I have."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," he quickly assures me.

"How did you know I had anything worth stealing when you saw me at the club?" I ask curiously. I'd always wondered about that. It's not like he'd seen my BMW, or Alice's Mercedes.

"You just… gave off that vibe," he shrugs. "And so did all of your friends. You were dressed well and I could see your diamond earrings when I danced with you."

"I liked those," I pout.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he says quietly.

I frown; I hadn't meant to make him feel bad. It's over and done with, and I'm trying to leave it in the past. "It's ok… the replacement pair that I bought with the insurance money is very pretty." He gives me a small smile.

Arriving at Whole Foods, Edward insists on pushing the cart while I select the items. I occasionally notice his eyes widen at some of the prices… it's not called 'Whole Paycheck' for nothing. Despite having a stepfather who's a doctor, I get the feeling that he's not really used to living well.

A tiny part of my brain nags at me that he's only with me for my money, but then I remember his insistence on paying for our lunch. Just because I don't understand it, doesn't mean that Edward's attraction to me isn't as genuine as my attraction to him.

God help me once we're alone in my house.

* * *

 **A/N:** So Bella and Edward had some more getting-to-know-you time. And they found something in common, yay! Is Bella a bit of a snob? She doesn't think so, but I think she kinda is.

I know many of you thought Edward might bring her to Emmett's birthday party, but I think it's a little soon to meet the family! Instead they did something casual and public… but now they're heading to Bella's house.

Part 2 of their date coming up on **Sunday**! I'll be very impressed if anyone can guess _this_ title. Two of you are two-for-two!


	17. Hungry Like the Wolf

**Author Note:** Thanks for giving my Cougarella a chance! No one guessed the title this week, at least not without getting me to give a hint with the artist's name.

About 70% of those who commented agreed that Bella is a snob, though to be fair, many of those "yes, she's a snob" answers were qualified with "a bit" or "in a way."

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 17: Hungry Like the Wolf_

Once I've completed my grocery shopping for the week, Edward and I head back to my home in Newcastle. He helps carry the bags inside, and I get all of the food put away.

"So, um, do you want to stay for dinner?" I ask hesitantly. I know he said I could cook for him, but I'm not sure how serious he was.

"Sure," he grins widely.

"My specialty is lasagna."

"Ok," he nods. "Can I help?"

"Um, can you brown the ground beef while I make the sauce?"

He agrees readily and once I've got a large pan of water on to boil, I set to work on my homemade meat sauce. I've made this countless times, but Edward peeking over my shoulder is making me nervous.

"How did you learn to make that?" he asks curiously. "You don't look Italian. You're as pale as I am."

"Actually, I have an Italian grandmother, I learned it from her," I reply with a smile.

When Edward's meat is done, he pours it into the saucepan, and I start getting everything else ready for assembly while the sauce simmers. As Edward stirs the noodles for me, it just suddenly feels very… domestic. Like this could be my life one day, if I'd let it.

Bringing everything over to the island when it's ready, I stand and put my lasagna together while Edward watches me intently, his forearms resting on the granite.

"What?" I ask, self-conscious from the way he's staring at me.

He shrugs. "You're concentrating so closely on your work. Are you always that serious?"

"Well… yeah, I guess so."

I'm sprinkling the cheese on top of the lasagna when he reaches out, tapping my nose. "Your nose is pink," he grins.

"I guess I didn't think about sunscreen since it was cool today." I shrug, moving to put the lasagna in the oven and set the timer. "Ok, we have 45 minutes."

"Whatever will we do with our time?" he grins salaciously and I feel my face heat up.

"N-not whatever you're thinking. I should probably get online and check the markets, but… I guess that can wait a couple of hours."

"Um… the stock market? Isn't it closed?" he asks, following me into the living room.

"The markets have already opened on Monday morning in Asia," I explain, smiling at how his nose has wrinkled up adorably.

"Do you always work on Sunday nights?" he asks. I sit down on the couch and Edward sits beside me… a little too close.

"Yeah, I do. I need to get a jump on the week."

"So… work is the most important thing to you? What do you do for fun? Besides pick up male strippers," he grins.

"I don't—" I stop, sighing, his grin showing that he's just teasing me. "I never did anything like that before," I whisper. "Or since."

"Why did you invite me to share your cab?" he asks curiously. "I hadn't really had a chance to even make my move before it showed up."

"I… I wasn't ready to leave you yet," I admit. "You were even more beautiful than I had imagined when I saw you inside the club."

"You're the beautiful one, Bella," he whispers, bringing his hand up to caress my face. "Inside and out." While every rational thought in my head says that I should lean away from him, I find myself leaning into his touch. "Can I kiss you?"

"I—"

"Shh… just a kiss, I promise."

I swallow thickly, and then I nod, closing my eyes. The brush of his lips against my own is so soft, so gentle. It's nothing like our ravenous kisses the first time around. Even when his tongue peeks out to trace my lips, asking for entry, he keeps it slow and sweet.

When he finally pulls away, I open my eyes, staring into his. "You make me dizzy," I whisper. No man I've kissed in the last four years has come close to making me feel like Edward can.

"You make me hungry," he grins. "Hungry for you."

He leans in again, but just the small distance is enough for me to think slightly more clearly. I put one finger over his lips to tell him to stop, but instead he sucks it into his mouth, swirling his tongue all around. _Shit…_ I remember well how talented his tongue is.

Edward releases my finger with a pop. "Bella," he whispers. "I've changed my mind; please let me have second base."

"I don't even know what that means anymore," I chuckle nervously.

"It means anything goes above the waist."

"I… I think we'd better stick to first." Though it's definitely tempting; it's been a long time since someone has touched me even somewhat intimately.

He gives me a pout that should be illegal before leaning in to kiss me again. Sucking gently on my bottom lip, he brings both of his hands up to cradle my face. I open my mouth to his, eagerly returning his kisses. My body most definitely remembers him, remembers the things he can make me feel.

We kiss and kiss and kiss until I want so badly to lie back and pull him down on top of me. It would be so easy to give in. But I know we can't; it's too soon. I don't want to rush into things… again.

"Bella," he whispers, pulling away from my lips. He drops one hand to my waist, then kisses a trail along my jaw up to my ear, then down onto my neck. I'm almost completely lost to him.

Almost. I'm still paying attention when his hand slides up my side and touches the side of my breast.

"Edward," I warn and he pulls away, panting. "You're incorrigible."

"But you like me this way," he grins.

"Maybe it's time to stop." But God, I don't want to. That's why I know we need to though.

Groaning, he reaches down to adjust himself; he's primed and ready to go already, it seems. I shake my head, trying not to stare at the bulge in his jeans.

"You bought bread, right?"

"What?" He's totally thrown me with the non sequitur.

"Bread, at the store. Did you buy some?"

"Yeah…"

"Cool," he grins, standing up. "I'll go make us some garlic bread so you can check your markets."

Once Edward has darted off to the kitchen, I lean back against the couch, letting out a heavy breath. While it's less outwardly obvious, I'm as turned on from our make-out session as Edward, and I need to cool down. Finally I heave myself off the couch, heading to my home office, where I boot up my laptop.

Only I'm finding it really hard to concentrate on my work.

Despite the things I said to Angela and Jessica two weeks ago — things I believed at the time — the more time I spend with Edward, the more I wonder if there _can_ be a future for us. He's everything I told my friends I wanted — when I set aside what he looks like "on paper." But going out with guys who look good on paper hasn't gotten me anything _so far_.

"I'll get it!" Edward calls when the timer beeps. I quickly finish up what I've been reading then join him in the kitchen. He's already got the table set and the lasagna sitting on top of the stove. His garlic bread is on the table and smells _amazing_.

I pour our drinks while Edward dishes out the lasagna, and I can't help smiling as we sit down to eat. Having dinner together is such a normal, couple-y thing to do. There's no doubt that Edward and I still have chemistry, but I admit that I was worried about whether or not we'd find we have anything in common. Would we be able to enjoy the same things long enough to spend time together… fully clothed?

So far, it's looking like we could.

After dinner, Edward handles rinsing off the dishes while I put the leftovers away. When he's finished, he stands leaning against the counter, his hands behind his back.

"Are you really gonna spend tonight working?" he asks, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, I really am."

"Can I stay and entertain you?"

"Stay and distract me is more like it," I mutter, and he grins widely.

"Have I earned another date?" he asks quietly, nervously. I don't even have to think about it; I want to see where this goes.

I'm tempted to tease him a little, but he honestly looks like he wouldn't be able to take that. "You have." I give him a small smile.

Edward lets out a breath, taking a few steps forward and hugging me tightly. Slowly, I bring my arms up, hugging him back for the first time. When he lets me go, he takes my hand in his and we walk together to the front door.

I unlock the door, but before I can turn the knob, my back is against the door and his lips are on mine. _Oh God_ , I remember this position. But just as quickly as the kiss began, he ends it, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Next time I get second base."

"Go on, get out of here," I chuckle, opening the door.

"Try not to miss me too much!"

Once he's off my porch, he turns around, walking backwards down my sidewalk to the driveway, nearly tripping over his own feet a few times. He's got me smiling like a loon as I close the door.

* * *

 **A/N:** A big revelation there for Bella, that Edward might be just what she needs after all! And she got some hot kisses from the sexy young boy. Isn't he adorable? Anyone out there still anti-Edward?

Their second date is coming up on **Tuesday**! Where should he take her this time? And will he get second base? Or aim for third?

* * *

My long-time pre-reader, moosals, has started posting her own first multi-chapter story, inspired by a true story she heard on the radio! Go check it out on her profile. You know FF and links…


	18. What About Love

**Author Note:** Thanks for giving my Cougarella a chance! Just got this Guest review and wanted to say thank you: "I really don't like cougar stories, but I like this one!"

Another Guest wondered what Bella wants in a man, which she had alluded to in the last chapter. She told her friends back in Chapter 11.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 18: What About Love_

A week after Edward's and my first date, we're going out again. Only this time he's keeping the location a secret. He told me to dress warmly, in layers, and wear comfortable boots without heels, but that's the only information I've been able to drag out of him so far.

As I sit waiting for Edward to arrive, I try to calm myself down. I have no idea why I'm so nervous; it's ridiculous. Something about this boy twists me in knots though. Whatever we're doing today, I get the feeling it'll be just the two of us — not us and 35,000 other people at the ballpark.

I startle when the doorbell rings, taking a deep breath before getting up to answer it. Edward greets me with a dazzling smile that threatens to bring out my inner cougar.

I look him up and down, noticing his red and black plaid shirt, worn open over a white t-shirt that has the Batman logo in the center of it. "I thought you told me to dress warmly?" I ask, given he's not even wearing a coat.

"My jacket's in the car," he grins. "Let's go, we've got a long drive."

I hurriedly grab my own coat then follow Edward to his car. "Will you tell me where we're going now?"

"Nope. It's a surprise."

"What's that on the back seat?" I ask, spotting a large basket.

"Lunch," he smiles.

"You made lunch?"

"Well… I packed it, anyway. I bought the food at the grocery store though," he shrugs sheepishly.

"I'm surprised you own a picnic basket," I giggle.

"I don't," he admits. "I borrowed it from my mom."

My breath catches for a moment at the mention of his mother. "Does your mom… does she know why you needed to borrow it?" I whisper.

"She knows I'm on a date," he shrugs.

"With me?" I ask, holding my breath.

"She knows your name is Bella."

"So that's a no." I'm not sure whether to feel relieved or… slighted that he hasn't really told her about me. And then I chastise myself for the double standard.

"I'm not following," Edward replies, turning to me with his brow furrowed.

"She doesn't know you're on a date with a 39-year-old woman," I clarify.

"Well, no, but… your age isn't important to me, so why should I make it a big deal? I'd like you to meet my mom one day, Bella," he adds softly, making my heart flutter. "I'm not ashamed of you or anything. Not the way you are of me."

My mouth opens and closes a few times before I can speak. "I'm not ashamed of you, Edward."

"You didn't want to talk to me in front of your friends," he reminds me.

"I didn't want to deal with their questions. Or their judgment. They think I'm wasting my time with you," I confess. I ended up telling Jessica and Angela about our date at the baseball game last weekend after they saw my sunburned nose on Monday. I'd like to tell Alice and Lauren in person — well, 'like to' is a little strong, but I think I _should_.

"Do _you_ think you're wasting your time?"

"No," I whisper. Whatever this ends up being between Edward and me, it won't be a waste of time.

* * *

Nearly two hours later, we arrive at the Nisqually Entrance to Mount Rainier National Park. "We're going mountain climbing?" I chuckle.

"No, but we can drive up the road to the Visitor's Center and walk along some trails… maybe. It's awfully early in the season, so the ground is probably still covered in snow. One of the other bartenders at Eclipse does a lot of climbing here, and he's the one who suggested it. He said many of the roads were opened early since there wasn't much snow this winter."

As we drive along inside the park, Edward is patient with me, pulling over several times so that I can take photos with my phone. When we reach a parking area with picnic tables, we stop for lunch. The temperature is nice, probably in the mid 60s, so he doesn't even bother with his jacket.

While Edward sets everything up, I look around at the beautiful scenery, with all of the evergreen trees peeking up through the snow. "It's so beautiful here," I exclaim in awe.

"Have you not been here before?" he asks, handing me a bottle of water from his cooler.

"I have, but it was back in my college days."

"You went to school in Seattle?"

"Yeah, at U-Dub," I reply with a smile. "That's where I met my friends, Alice and Lauren. Alice is the one who planned the whole strip club trip for my birthday."

"Remind me to thank her someday," he grins, making me very nervous. I'm not sure I ever want my friends to know where I first met Edward. "What was your major?"

"Oh, um, Economics." I laugh at the face he makes. "It's not as boring as it sounds!"

"Uh-huh. How come you haven't been here since?"

I shrug. I'm afraid Edward will think I'm totally boring if he finds out just how much work dominates my life. Though I suppose he already knows I work on Sunday nights.

"The two women I saw you with downtown were at New Moon too, right?" he asks.

"Yeah," I nod. "Jessica and Angela. I work with them, though they're both more general financial advisors, whereas I specialize in investing. We've worked together for over 10 years. It's a male-dominated field, and most of the women at the company are administrative assistants, so the three of us who bucked the trend naturally became close."

"Your work is really important to you," he notes.

"It is."

"But you need to have fun, too."

"I have fun," I protest.

"Shopping at Whole Foods?"

I roll my eyes. "I spend time with my girlfriends, when I can. Lauren is single but the other three are married with children, so they're pretty busy."

"What about just for you though? Any hobbies?" he persists.

"I like museums and art galleries, things like that. In fact, that's what I'll be doing next weekend. My boss's wife owns an art gallery and they have a new exhibition opening on Friday."

Edward gets quiet as we eat — so quiet that I start to wonder if something is wrong, though I have no clue what it could be.

"What's the matter, Edward? You're never this quiet."

"I was just thinking… Do you have a date for this opening?"

"No. Why?" Is he worried that I'm seeing someone else?

"Maybe I could go with you?" he suggests.

"Don't you have to work on Friday night?"

"Well, yeah, but I could probably trade with someone."

"Do you _want_ to go to an art exhibition? It doesn't really sound like your thing. And you can't wear a Batman t-shirt," I chuckle.

"I know that," he replies, rolling his eyes. "I have a nice suit; I got it for my great-grandma's funeral."

"I'm sorry," I apologize, taking his hand in mine. "Is this something you want to attend with me? My invite does have a plus-one."

"For our first two dates, we've sort of done my things," he explains, looking me in the eye. "It's your turn to be in charge. Let me show you that I can fit into your world. Let me meet some of your friends."

"I honestly never thought about it as something you might be interested in, but if you want to, then… you can go with me." I'll probably freak out later about exactly what this means, but for now… I'm just happy to have the smile back on Edward's face where it belongs. "It really means that much to you?" I ask curiously.

"Yeah, it does. I was afraid you hadn't asked me to go because you didn't want to be seen with me."

"Why would you think that?"

"Maybe because you _didn't_ want to be seen with me a few weeks ago?" he asks wryly. "I mean, I get it… You're intelligent and successful and accomplished. And I'm… a former drug addict and stripper who doesn't even have a college degree."

"You shouldn't put yourself down like that!" I cry. It's not the first time, either. Edward's past has nothing to do with my apprehension — only his age.

"It's true though."

"Ok, maybe it is — technically — but… you had a really rough start in life. It would have been a miracle for that to have not affected you in some way."

"So did you though, right? With your dad leaving and all?"

"It was a different kind of rough," I explain. "My mom was great, but she supported us with minimum wage jobs. I never had a lot of luxuries growing up. It made me determined to get an education, to get a good job, to make sure I wouldn't ever want for anything again."

"Is that why you work so much?"

"Yeah, I think that's why. I put my career first, which put money in the bank, but…" I frown, realizing for perhaps the first time what I don't have: love and companionship.

"But you forgot to live."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, Edward told his mom about Bella, but not everything! What would you say if _your_ 23-year-old son brought home a woman who's practically your age?

It looks like their third date will be to an art gallery opening. Bella is understandably a bit nervous about introducing Edward to her friends, though it really is his age that's the issue for her. Is Edward right to be a bit hurt by her behavior?

Their second date will continue on **Thursday**. I know that's Thanksgiving in the States, but I learned last year that you guys like updates on holidays to give you a break from all the family stuff. And besides, only 63% of you are in the US.


	19. We Belong

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Everyone is looking forward to the art gallery date, but that'll begin in Monday's update.

I heard from several of you who actually had brothers or sons, in at least one case, who married much older women, with varying degrees of success. It may be rare, but it _does_ happen.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 19: We Belong_

After lunch, we continue up the road toward the Visitor's Center, stopping on the edge of a cliff, which overlooks a stream that's rushing quickly due to the rapidly melting snow. A steep trail leads down to the edge of the water.

As soon as we're out of the car, Edward is off down the snow-packed trail. When he reaches the bottom, he turns and looks up at me with a grin. "Come on, slow poke!"

I shake my head. While I'm not as clumsy as I was when I was a kid, I'll probably fall and break my neck. Which would not be a fun way to end a date.

Still grinning, Edward climbs back up the trail, grabbing hold of my hand. "I won't let you fall," he says, tugging on my hand. Very gingerly, I follow him down to the rocks that form the bank of the stream.

There's a bridge spanning the stream, which is made of a long, squared-off tree trunk, measuring barely a foot across and hanging just inches from the rushing water. Other round trunks from smaller diameter trees make up a crude railing. There's no way in hell I'd walk across that thing, but Edward heads straight for it.

"Be careful!" I shout, and he laughs, raising his arms in victory once he reaches the other side.

Shaking my head at his antics, I snap his picture. He tries to entice me over but I'm having none of it. Finally he gives up, crossing back over to me.

"Why wouldn't you cross it?" Edward asks, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright — he's beautiful.

"Because when I was eight, I tried to walk across a balance beam in gym class and fell off. I landed in the hospital with a mild concussion."

"That's way bigger than a balance beam!"

"Maybe, but I'm not taking my chances."

"I told you I wouldn't let you fall," he says softly, brushing the back of his fingers down my cheek. I look up at his eyes, and, oh hell… He's looking at me so intensely I almost have to look away. I'm held captive by his gaze as he leans in slowly, brushing his lips against mine.

After a few seconds, he pulls away, smiling, and I'm left in a daze. Holding tightly to my hand, he leads me back up the trail to the road, and we continue on our way.

Our next stop is at the head of the short paved trail down to Christine Falls. I snap a photo, then make Edward stand in front of the falls while I take another one.

"Your turn," he smiles, holding out his hand for my phone.

"Both of us," I argue, hating photos of myself. He tucks me under his arm, holding my phone out in front of us to take a selfie, then does the same with his own.

I look at the photo on the screen and I'm struck by how… _good_ we look together. I don't look like his mother… or aunt. Edward peeks over my shoulder at the screen, then wraps his arms around me.

"We look like we belong together."

"I was just thinking that," I reply quietly.

* * *

Once we've reached the Paradise Visitor's Center, we walk through the gift shop and I snap a few more photos outside. Most of the mountain itself isn't visible due to clouds or fog, but it's still gorgeous, though it feels much cooler here than at the lower elevations.

We can only drive a little further up the road before it's closed at Snow Lake, so we turn around then, driving back down the winding road toward the entrance.

Nearly two hours later, we're back in Newcastle. We stop at my favorite Chinese place for take-out then head back to my place.

Edward complained about not being able to have a "real" picnic with a blanket on the ground — since it was snow-covered, or at least wet — so I have an idea that may please him. I lead him to the back of my house, to a cozy family room that was added on by the previous owners. I turn on the gas fireplace, then motion for him to sit down on the rug in front of the fire.

"I'll go get us drinks," I tell Edward, leaving him to unpack the bag of food. I'm back in just a minute, sitting down beside him.

"This is nice," he smiles, biting into an egg roll. "Not a _real_ fireplace though."

"Well, I use the gas logs since I wasn't about to go out chopping firewood," I chuckle.

"You need a man for that," Edward smiles.

"Know where I can get one of those?" I tease.

"I might," he whispers, leaning over to peck my lips. He straightens up, clearing his throat. "So… have you dated at all since… since we first met?"

"Yeah, of course I have. None of my relationships lasted longer than three months though," I confess.

"How come?"

I shrug. "Just not the right guys for me, I guess." I don't really want to tell Edward that they couldn't live up to him in the bedroom — don't want to feed his ego too much. "Only two of them lasted more than a date or two, and I wasn't heartbroken or anything when we called it quits."

Once we've finished our meals, I pick up the two fortune cookies, letting Edward choose the one he wants. I tear into mine, pulling out my fortune. "Good things are in store for you," I read, rolling my eyes. How generic.

Edward pulls his small piece of paper out, then smirks. "A new relationship is about to blossom. You will be blessed." He looks up at me through his lashes, then smiles softly. "I haven't dated anyone special since I got out of rehab either," he admits. "Not until you."

I swallow thickly, then turn away from the intensity of his stare. "Um, let me get rid of all this." Gathering up our trash, I take it out to the kitchen to throw away or recycle.

When I come back, Edward is lying sprawled out on his back on the rug, his arms up above his head. His shirt has ridden up, and I can see a patch of reddish-brown hair just above where the waistband of his underwear is peeking out — his happy trail. I didn't get to see that before, thanks to his waxing.

"Like what you see?" he asks, smirking up at me.

"You know you're beautiful."

I sit down beside him, and he tugs on my hand, pulling me until I'm lying on top of him. I try to get up onto my knees so my weight isn't on him, but he wraps his arms around me, not letting me up.

We're nose to nose, eye to eye, staring at each other, until Edward's eyes dart to my lips. Unconsciously, I wet them, and he snaps, leaning up to capture my lips in his.

These aren't the same sweet kisses from last week. This is the real Edward, the raw passion that he has inside, sucking at my lips, exploring my mouth with his tongue. His hands slide up and down my back, squeezing my backside, then move up underneath my thin sweater.

I whimper at the feel of his hands on my bare skin, and suddenly he's rolling us over, his hips pressing into mine. I'm dazed by the time he finally pulls away, sitting up slightly and pushing up the bottom of my sweater. He looks up at me for permission, which I grant without a second thought, lifting my arms to allow him to remove my sweater.

Edward stares down at me for a long moment, then traces along the top of my lacy bra with one finger, causing goosebumps over my entire body.

"Not quite as perky as girls your own age."

He looks up at me sharply, frowning. Still staring into my eyes, he slides one hand underneath me, unhooking my bra. I hold my breath as he slowly peels the straps down my arms, baring my breasts to him.

Cupping one breast in each of his hands, he brushes his thumbs over my nipples, making them pebble instantly. "They're fucking perfect," he growls. When his mouth closes over my left nipple, I close my eyes against his stare, arching my back slightly to push my chest even closer to him.

He alternates between my nipples, sucking and tugging gently with his teeth. I start squirming beneath him, looking for friction; this is the best thing I've felt since he made me come so many times I lost count.

"Think you could come just from this?"

"No," I snort. "That's never happened."

"Mmmm… I like a challenge," he whispers, going back to his task.

* * *

 **A/N:** Happy Thanksgiving! We finally got to the image of Edward that's in the banner and book cover for this story.

Edward has officially claimed second base! Can he succeed in his task? Will he try to steal third? After all, Bella's fortune said good things are in store for her. Maybe someone can get the next chapter title? Hint: the song is from an 80s movie soundtrack.

Also, Bella has realized that she and Edward don't look so strange together. Good news for _his_ fortune.

I've been to Mount Rainier twice. I'll link to photos of the bridge Bella wouldn't cross, Christine Falls and a few random ones of the National Park on FictionPad. They were taken in September though, not early May.


	20. Let's Hear It for the Boy

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Kudos to **astonmartin823** for guessing the chapter title! Also, **EdwardsFirstKiss** in a second attempt via PM. Lots of songs titles would've worked, I think.

So, maybe not such a good idea to update on a holiday, as reviews were the lowest of any chapter, a third below normal for the number of views. I realize many of you were traveling or stuck in the kitchen reading on your phones, so unable to review. If you could go back and pick up last chapter with this one, I'd appreciate it!

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 20: Let's Hear It for the Boy_

I reach out with my right hand, running my fingers through Edward's hair as I shamelessly hold his mouth to my chest. His tongue and lips seem to know exactly what to do to make me crazy.

I can feel that he's hard, pressing against my thigh. I remember well the things his cock can do. There's no denying that a part of me wants us both to get naked, right now, but I still feel like it's too soon. Third base is still between second base and a home run, after all.

"Bella," he whispers. "I need you so bad."

I crook my fingers, and he slides closer to assault my mouth again, thrusting his hips against me. I tilt my hips just so and now he's hitting exactly where I need him. Maybe I can't come from just his talented mouth on my breasts, but I can most definitely come from some good old-fashioned dry humping.

It suddenly strikes me that Edward, former stripper, is still fully clothed, while I lie naked to the waist — that's just wrong! I slide my hands to his shoulders, then begin pushing his open shirt down his arms. Pulling away from me with a grin, he quickly removes it before tugging his Batman t-shirt over his head. He opens the fly of his jeans but makes no move to take them off.

I moan when he returns to my mouth, his bare chest sliding against my sensitive nipples. His hands are all over me and his fabric-covered cock is hitting exactly where I need it, now unencumbered by his jeans.

My orgasm hits me by surprise and I cry out. After just a few more thrusts, Edward freezes, groaning loudly. He rolls off of me onto his back, breathing heavily for a minute or so, then sits up with a grimace.

"Um, guess I'd better go clean up," he says sheepishly. As he gets to his feet, I notice the tattoo across his back. I don't recall seeing that the first time I got naked with him, but I do remember getting a few fleeting glimpses of it earlier.

While he's gone, I start looking around for my bra. I've got myself put back together by the time he returns.

"I haven't come in my pants since I was a teenager," Edward laughs, sitting down beside me, his elbows resting on his bent knees.

"That wasn't all that long ago, Edward."

Grinning, he sticks his tongue out at me, then leans over for a quick kiss. "So I failed in my mission."

My brow furrows for a moment as I try to figure out what he's talking about. "What mission?" I finally ask.

"Trying to make you come without leaving second base," he grins. "Next time," he adds, and I feel my face flush. I'd never consider what he just did to me as a failure.

"Did you get cleaned up?" I ask, nodding toward his groin.

"I did my best, then decided to just go commando until I get home," he shrugs.

"So what's your tattoo?" I ask curiously — not really wanting to think about Edward without underwear. In response he turns so that I can see his back.

I trace my fingers lightly over the large image, made of thick, swirling lines. The top is colored in black, morphing into dark red, red, orange and finally yellow at the bottom. I can't quite figure out what it is, though it looks vaguely like some kind of bird, with a small head in the middle and two wings coming up on either side.

"What is it?" I whisper.

"A phoenix. I got it after I left rehab, to symbolize my new start."

"It's very artistic."

"It actually was a painting I saw hanging in this coffee shop in Monterey. I snapped a photo of it and showed it to the tattoo artist."

He scoots back around to face me, leaning in to capture my lips again. "I had a great time today," he says quietly. "And not just what happened here on the rug."

"Me too," I admit. Edward is actually very good company.

"I'll see if I can get Friday night off and let you know, ok?"

I nod, watching as he shrugs into his t-shirt. Once he's found his button-down shirt, I stand up with him, walking him to the door.

"I'd stay if you'd let me."

"I need to work." Though honestly, spending the night with Edward sounds a lot more fun than work right now.

Cupping my cheek, he kisses me, sweet but lingering, until I'm almost ready to ask him to stay.

"Scram before I change my mind."

Grinning, he pecks my lips again then opens the door, waving to me on his way to the car.

* * *

Alice's husband, Jasper, is home and able to watch the kids on Wednesday night, so she and Lauren meet me at the mall, at my request. After dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, we head to my favorite shoe store to pick out a new pair for the art gallery on Friday.

As soon as the salesclerk has boxed up the pair of sparkly black stilettos, Alice confronts me. "Ok, spill it, Swan. Why do you need a new pair of shoes for the opening? And why are you suddenly willing to look at four-inch heels? You usually refuse to wear higher than two inches."

Knowing that this is why I really invited them to help me shop, I lead them to the nearest Starbucks to talk. Once we've each got a drink, I sit playing with the wrapper on the cup as I try to figure out how to tell them.

I take a sip of my caramel macchiato, then set the cup back down, looking at my friends. "I needed heels because my date is tall."

Lauren squeals. "Oh my God, you've got a date? Who is he? What does he do?"

"His-his name is Edward, and he's the bartender I was talking to at Eclipse."

"The hottie bartender?" Alice repeats, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," I respond, unable to keep from smiling as I think about him. "We met when he was tending bar in a restaurant," I explain, giving them the same story I gave Angela and Jessica. "He kept trying to get me to go out with him, and I finally gave in after I ran into him downtown last month. Lauren, it was just after you left us to go back to your car."

"Damn, I'm sorry I missed him!" she complains. "I want to get a look at this guy."

I frown for a moment, considering whether or not this is a good idea. Finally I unlock my phone, scrolling through my photos to find the one of Edward and me at Christine Falls, and turning it so that my friends can see.

"Oh-em-gee, that guy is just as hot as you said, Alice!"

"I hadn't seen him up close," she points out. "He's really something. So you've been out with him before?"

"Yeah, we went to a baseball game and then last weekend we drove down to Mount Rainier."

"I thought the waterfall looked familiar," Lauren says. "So you asked him to attend the opening with you?"

I nod, though Edward sort of invited himself. "It's just to see if… if he can fit into my world, you know?"

Alice frowns, looking at me closely. "You're not seriously thinking of a future with him, are you? He can't be older than his mid-20s."

"Did you ask the same thing when Jasper's brother married a 26-year-old woman last year?" I fucking hate her double standard.

"Peter is a 43-year-old child; he still acts like he's in college. You're different, Bella. What on earth could you have in common with a young bartender?"

I sigh heavily. "I'm not saying there is definitely a future for Edward and me. We're just trying to figure things out and enjoying each other's company. What's wrong with that?"

"Are you having sex?" Lauren asks, her eyes wide.

"No! Not-not yet." I blush, thinking of our hot make-out session in front of the fireplace last weekend. Not quite sex, anyway.

"Too bad; he looks like he'd be an awesome lay," she replies, grinning.

"Just be careful, Bella," Alice pleads. "I'd hate to see him trying to take advantage of you."

"Why can't he genuinely be interested in me?" I ask with a frown. I don't need any reminders of the fact that Edward _did_ take advantage of me four and a half years ago. An ever-shrinking part of my mind still questions his motives now, but I can't let myself think like that.

"Of course he can!" Lauren exclaims. "You're still a beautiful, sexy woman."

"Thank you," I reply, giving her a small smile. I really don't think Edward can be faking his attraction to me.

"Ok, even if he is sincere," Alice begins, "He could still decide eventually that he wants someone closer to his own age. I don't want to see you get your heart broken."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

* * *

 **A/N:** So… not quite third base, I don't think? But he rounded second, maybe made it out to the shortstop. Not a failure at all, I don't think.

Edward's tattoo: cdn dot vectorstock dot com /i/composite/65,02/mythical-phoenix-bird-vector-986502 dot jpg

Alice and Lauren are now in the know. One was supportive, one not so much, but Bella is standing firm against the double standard.

Coming up on **Monday** , the art gallery opening! As for the chapter title, the hint is buried in their first discussion of it from two chapters back. If I give you the artist, that'll narrow it down too much since they only have like three songs that the vast majority of you would know.


	21. Sharp Dressed Man

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Kudos to **MIRosebud** for guessing the chapter title… on about her third try. ;) No one else guessed it.

Alice is in the doghouse with most of you for her double standard and her comments to Bella.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 21: Sharp Dressed Man_

After work on Friday, I change into the sparkly black dress I've chosen for the exhibition opening and darken my make-up. I spray some perfume, add jewelry then strap on my new shoes, taking one last look in the mirror. I look pretty good for 39, if I do say so myself.

Because the art gallery is much closer to Edward's condo than my home, it only makes sense for me to pick him up this time. I program his address into the nav system in my car, curious to see his place — even if it was his great-grandma's.

Finding his condo on the building's third floor, I ring the doorbell, and when the door opens, my mouth falls open. Holy. Shit. Edward is dressed in a perfectly fitted dark gray suit, white button-down shirt, and royal blue tie that totally brings out the blue in his eyes. He's clean-shaven and his bronze hair is artfully messy and just — gah!

"You look beautiful," he says with a smile, leaning forward to give me a chaste kiss.

"And you look… beyond handsome. I'll be the envy of every woman tonight." Though I have to admit, Alice's comments have me a bit paranoid that strangers might think Edward is an escort.

"I clean up well," he grins, taking a step back. "Do you want to come in for a minute?"

I nod, stepping inside. As I take a look around, I remember Edward's words about the condo being decorated in "early old lady." Let's just say he wasn't kidding.

"I know, I need to get new furniture or remove the wallpaper or both," he says, reading my mind. "It just hasn't been my priority."

"It's… well, the layout seems nice, very open."

Edward laughs, gathering me up in his arms. "You really do look beautiful," he whispers, brushing his lips against mine and sending tingles throughout my body.

"Ok, enough of that or we'll be late." Good lord, it's tempting to just stay in though.

Smiling, he places his hand on the small of my back, leading me out the door.

"Nice," he remarks when I hit the unlock button on my keyfob, making the headlights flash on my BMW 650i. "I haven't seen your car before."

"It's just been in my garage," I shrug, opening the car door.

"Are any of your friends going to be there?" Edward asks as I drive.

"Yeah," I nod. "Jessica and Angela should be there with their husbands. My boss's wife always invites all of the Vice Presidents at the company when a new exhibition opens — at least those who've shown any prior interest."

"You're a Vice President?" he asks, turning to look at me.

"I am. For almost seven years now. Don't get too excited though. I think it's like in a bank, where they give everyone higher titles to make clients more comfortable."

Edward laughs, grinning at me as I pull off the highway.

As is typical on opening nights, a valet parks the cars for the guests. I leave him my car keys, then walk with Edward into the building.

"Bella," Mrs. Jenks — my boss's much younger wife — greets me with an air kiss on each cheek before I can take two steps inside. "I'm so glad you could make it!" As she takes a step backwards, she spots Edward standing beside me. I notice her eyes widen as she looks him up and down, settling on his arm when he places his hand on my back.

"And who is your handsome date?" she asks.

"This is Edward Masen," I introduce him with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "Edward, this is Heidi Jenks. Her husband, Jason, is my boss."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Jenks," he greets her politely, shaking her outstretched hand.

"Likewise," she smiles. "And please, call me Heidi. Bella, the guestbook is to your right, and the bar is in the back. If you show your company ID, your drinks are free," she adds with a wink. "Waiters should be walking around with trays of hors d'oeuvres — help yourselves."

"Thank you," I nod, walking over to sign the guestbook. When I'm through, I hand the pen to Edward, then we head toward the bar.

I order my standard chardonnay, while Edward just asks for a Coke. We've barely taken two steps when we see the first waiter. He offers us coconut shrimp, letting us each choose a piece, along with a small napkin. Of course, trying to eat while holding my glass of wine in my other hand isn't the easiest thing in the world.

"Do you need me to feed you?" Edward grins, having already finished his shrimp. Scowling at him, I pop the piece into my mouth.

After trying two more delicious hors d'oeuvres, I take Edward's hand, leading him over to the paintings. The art is abstract, with vibrant colors, and the titles of the paintings are provocative. Abstract isn't usually my style, but I like them.

"What do you think?" I ask Edward, who's squinting at one of the paintings.

"It's… interesting."

I chuckle, putting my hand on his shoulder to turn him around. "More food," I point out. Grinning, he chooses a mini quiche from a passing tray.

"Bella!" I look up, spotting Jessica and her husband, Mike, coming our way.

"Hey," I smile, trying not to look as nervous as I feel. "Good to see you again, Mike. Did you guys just get here?"

"Yeah, we had to wait for the babysitter to show up," Jessica replies. She tries very hard not to stare at Edward — and fails.

"Um, this is Edward Masen. Edward, this is Jessica and Mike Newton." Edward quickly pops the quiche into his mouth so that the two men can shake hands.

"You'll never fill up on those things," Mike chuckles. "I've learned to eat first before coming here."

I laugh when Jessica elbows him in the ribs. "They're not supposed to be a meal; they're appetizers." She shakes her head. "We're gonna get drinks. Nice to finally meet you, Edward."

Once they've walked away, I let out the breath I'd been holding. That wasn't so bad. And neither is introducing Edward to my boss. He doesn't even seem to flinch at the very young man beside me — but then the age difference between him and his wife is probably just as great.

"Do you want another drink?" Edward asks, noticing my glass is empty.

"I could probably handle one more," I reply, setting it on an empty tray.

"I can drive if you don't feel safe," he grins. "Your car looks fun to drive."

"Hmmm… and how would I get home from your place then?"

"You'd just have to spend the night," he replies seductively, pulling me into his arms for a quick kiss. "Or I could drive us to your place and _I_ could spend the night." I swallow thickly, staring up at him. "Only if that's what you want," he quickly adds when I don't reply. Though I'm definitely considering it.

Edward and I head back to the bar, each getting a refill on our drinks. I take a sip then look around at the crowd, having still not spotted Angela or Ben tonight — which might be for the best. As my eyes fall over the various couples, I realize it's no exaggeration that I have the hottest man here.

I also realize that despite my earlier fears, no one seems to pay us any mind. No one is staring at us, wondering what _I_ am doing with the hot young man. Maybe the age difference isn't so obvious to others after all. Or maybe no one really gives a fuck.

As we walk through the exhibition, Edward's hand on the small of my back, I can feel myself getting more and more turned on. The paintings, some featuring abstract nudes and bondage scenes, evoke a seductive mood, drawing me in like nothing has since the first time I watched Edward dance.

There's still another base we haven't reached, but if there is any making out tonight, I'll probably cave and have sex with him. Goddamn, he looks good in a suit. Hell, I was all over him when he was wearing a hoodie and jeans. Not to mention the fact that it's been a long time for me, not since Alec two years ago. And that was less than memorable.

"Bella!" Hearing my name, I turn around, my eyes widening at the sight of my ex-boyfriend Riley walking our way.

* * *

 **A/N:** So far, so good, though Bella's ex has just spotted our pair and they haven't caught up with Angela yet. Jessica was always more accepting.

Edward in a suit… yummy! He's doing great so far at fitting into Bella's world, well enough that she's starting to think of taking him home with her. Will he convince her?

If anyone wants to try the chapter title, it was a #1 hit toward the very end of the 80s.


	22. Listen to Your Heart

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Congrats to **MIRosebud** , **the real teacher** and a Guest for guessing the chapter title! Nothing like the shotgun approach of tossing out multiple songs and seeing which one sticks! Roxette's _Listen to Your Heart_ was #1 in November 1989, which definitely qualifies as end of the decade. I loved some of your guesses though, and many also would've been quite appropriate.

For anyone who's forgotten, Bella mentioned in Chapter 7 that she had two brief sexual relationships (Riley and Alec) after she was with Edward the first time. They ended because workaholic Bella was too busy to spend time with them.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 22: Listen to Your Heart_

"Shit," I mutter to myself. Edward turns to look at me, brow furrowed, but before I can explain, Riley is standing in front of us. I should've thought that he might be here, given that he's an art collector.

"You look amazing," Riley gushes. Funny, he rarely said that to me when we were dating.

"Um, thanks," I reply shyly. "Riley, this is Edward. Edward, Riley."

"Nice to meet you, Edward. Are you a new intern working with Bella?" he asks. _Shit._

"I'm her date," he replies rather proudly, putting his arm around me possessively. Riley's eyes widen almost comically. I've got to end this — now, while his mouth is still gaping.

"Could you please excuse us, Riley? I've been looking for my friend Angela all night and I've finally spotted her." I start walking away, Edward hot on my heels.

"Who was that dick?" he asks, stopping to grab a stuffed mushroom off of a tray.

"We used to date, about four years ago," I confess. "He was my three-month relationship."

"Seriously? He's old enough to be my father."

I stop, turning to Edward. "And I am old enough to be your mother."

He rolls his eyes. "Only if you were a very young teenage mother. Do you work with him?"

"No," I shake my head. "He collects art."

"So did you really see your friend, or was that just an excuse?"

"She's over by the bar." I nod in Angela's direction. Just then, Angela turns around, spotting us. Taking her husband, Ben, by the arm, she leads him over toward us. Out of the frying pan, into the fire…

After the requisite introductions are out of the way, Angela turns to Edward. "So you're a bartender?"

"Yes, for now," he answers. "I'll be starting at U-Dub for the Fall semester, now that I've gotten all of my core courses out of the way in community college."

"What are you planning to major in?" Ben asks. Suddenly I feel guilty that I haven't asked Edward that myself, at least not since I saw him in California.

"Business," he answers. "Something where there's a wide range of possible careers."

"Mmmm. May I ask how old are you, Edward?" Angela asks.

"I'm 23, why?"

Her eyes widen and she's speechless for a moment. _Shit._ "Just-just curious. Bella hasn't mentioned your age. Most people have completed their Bachelor's by 23." I'm about to reprimand her for her rudeness, but Edward beats me to it.

"Not everyone goes straight to college after high school. I'm a late bloomer," he replies, a bit tersely.

Angela smiles and nods, but I can't help remembering all of the ways in which Edward was _not_ a late bloomer. As if he knows what I'm thinking, he wraps his arm around me, pulling me close and sneakily squeezing my backside.

"Are you enjoying the exhibition, Edward?" Ben asks, blessedly changing the subject.

"Yeah," he smiles. "It's not stuffy landscapes or portraits, you know?"

We make small talk for a few minutes before Angela and Ben take off to check out the paintings.

"Can I show you my favorite?" Edward whispers in my ear.

Breaking out in goosebumps, I can do nothing but nod, letting him lead me by the hand. He points to a painting done primarily in pinks and oranges, with a black oval in the center. The entire painting is criss-crossed by blue and black X's.

"Do you see the curve of her body?" Edward whispers in my ear, and I realize that the swirls inside the oval form a woman's figure — a partial side view of her naked back and rounded backside. "She reminds me of you, on your hands and knees in front of me while I made you see stars."

I feel my face flush as I remember _that_ particular time. Stepping back, I squint my eyes as I look at the entire painting, and maybe it's just because I've got sex on the brain — thanks to Edward — but the overall effect with the dark oval surrounded by pink reminds me of a woman's… more intimate parts.

"You're turned on," he says suddenly.

"What?" I turn my head sharply to look at him.

"I've seen that look on your face once before — in the cab, on the way to your house."

I stare at him, mouth gaping, but I can't deny it. I have the hottest man here, and the idea of getting him home and naked is starting to sound very appealing.

"Are you ready to leave?" he asks quietly, taking a step closer. "Are you ready to let me remind you how good we can be?"

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm ready." _For both._

Grinning, Edward takes my hand, walking quickly back to the entrance. We step outside and I hand the ticket to the valet.

"Your friend doesn't like me," Edward says while we wait for my car to be brought around.

"I'm sure that's not true," I protest. "Though… she doesn't trust you. She worries about me."

"Have you told her what I did to you?" he asks in shock.

"No, no… of course not. I told my friends that I met you when you were tending bar at a restaurant… and let them believe it was here in Seattle."

"So why doesn't she trust me?"

I sigh, deciding to tell him the truth. "None of my friends understand why a 20-something man would be with me when you could have your pick of girls your own age."

"That's kind of insulting to you, isn't it? You're a very, very attractive woman, Bella," he says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. "Let me show you exactly how attractive I think you are."

I look up into his piercing eyes, swallowing thickly.

"Ms. Swan?" the valet calls, saving me from having to respond. Smiling, I hand him a few bills then get into the driver's seat.

It's not long before I reach my last chance to chicken out and head back to Edward's place to drop him off. His large warm hand resting lightly on my bare thigh makes the decision for me — I'd much rather take him to my house and let him have his way with me.

"Are you still hungry?" Edward asks suddenly.

"Not really." I'm too nervous to eat much; now that I've made the decision, I just want to get him home and naked as soon as possible. "Are you?"

"I could use some energy," he replies, grinning when I turn to look at him. "A drive-thru is fine, I'm not picky."

I exit the freeway at the next exit and he points toward McDonald's. I don't think I've eaten there since college. "Just get me a Big Mac meal with a Sprite," he says, handing me a ten-dollar bill.

Before I've even pulled out of the parking lot, he's got the burger open on his lap and is stuffing fries into his mouth.

"Want some?" he asks with his mouth full, seeing me watching him. They _do_ smell good, so I open my mouth, letting him feed me a handful of fries. As I wait at a stoplight to get back on the freeway, he holds his burger up so I can take a bite.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm pulling into my garage. Edward collects all of his trash in the bag, following me into the mudroom and kitchen, where he throws it away.

I stand with my hands gripping the counter behind me, watching him carefully. My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest. "Why do you look so nervous?" he asks softly, stepping closer and brushing my hair behind my ear. "I don't remember you being nervous the first time."

I laugh incredulously. "Didn't you see the way my hand was trembling as I unlocked the door that night?"

"I was probably too busy staring at your ass," he grins. He gently pulls my hands off the edge of the counter, and I wrap them around him, staring up at his beautiful face. "I just want you to know that this isn't a game to me. I really like you, Bella."

"I really like you too," I whisper. I can't deny it any longer; this isn't just physical attraction.

Cradling my face in his hands, he leans down, brushing his lips against mine. I pull him closer, kissing him back, and he stops being so hesitant, showing me some of his passion.

Breaking away, he stares down at me. "Either you show me to your bedroom, or I'm taking you right here on the counter," he growls.

* * *

 **A/N:** Decisions, decisions… what's a girl to choose now that Edward has charmed his way into spending the night?

So Riley wasn't so bad, beyond thinking Edward was a young intern. I imagine most of you think Angela needs a slap, though Edward held his own.

The next chapter title was a cover song in the 80s of a song originally recorded nearly 20 years earlier.


	23. I Think We're Alone Now

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Congrats to **EAMCSquared** , **MissyDy** , **peachtreegirl** , **morena. davidson. 3** and **meepison** for guessing the chapter title, Tiffany's cover of the old Tommy James and the Shondelles hit.

The "counter" people outweighed the "bed" people, though many noted that counter would mean bed later. This is Edward the Energizer Bunny, after all.

Let's get to it before Edward gets blue balls…

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 23: I Think We're Alone Now_

" _Either you show me to your bedroom, or I'm taking you right here on the counter," he growls._

"You know the way," I reply boldly.

Smiling, Edward takes my hand and together we climb the stairs to my bedroom. While he removes his jacket and tie, I hurriedly take off my jewelry so it isn't in the way. I'm walking toward the nightstand to get a condom when Edward grabs me, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

Moving my hair out of the way, he buries his face in my neck. I tilt my head to give him more access, past the point of caring if I look too eager.

Suddenly his arms disappear from around me, and I feel him opening the zipper on the back of my dress. He pushes it off my shoulders, and I step out of the material, really glad that I put on matching underwear this morning.

"I'll get it," Edward says, stopping me as I go to pick up my dress. Instead, I slide the straps over my ankles to remove my heels.

When Edward comes back to me, he picks up where he left off, his face in my neck and his hands on my breasts. After a few moments, he removes one hand long enough to unhook my bra, then holds my bare breasts in his hands, kneading them gently while he brushes his thumbs over my nipples.

I close my eyes, enjoying what he's doing to me. Moving my hands behind my back, I tug his shirt out and attempt to open his pants. I can feel his long hard length beneath my hands.

"Nice trick," he chuckles once I've gotten the zipper down. "Don't move a muscle." I remain frozen in place, peeking over my shoulder when Edward takes his hands off of me to strip down to his underwear.

He sets his pants and shirt on the dresser, then basically throws me onto the bed, attaching his lips to my left nipple. I yelp from surprise, then moan in pleasure as he sucks hard on both nipples. As good as his mouth feels, I just want his cock right now.

"Edward," I moan, making him lift his head.

"So good to have you calling out my _real_ name."

"Condoms are in the top drawer," I hint, making him laugh.

"So impatient you are. Could Riley not satisfy you?"

"Not even close," I admit. Grinning, he slides off the bed and opens the drawer.

I stare unabashedly as he pulls his underwear down, rolling on a condom then stroking himself a couple of times. Holy shit, I'd forgotten just how impressive his cock is.

Turning back to me, he kneels beside me then pulls my panties down and off. I'm almost giddy with anticipation, and the feeling far outweighs my nervousness at what Edward may think of my 39-year-old body.

Settling between my thighs, he wraps my legs around his waist and leans forward to kiss me softly. I can feel him, hot and hard between us, as I try to maneuver his cock where I need it.

"Is this what you want, baby?" he asks, holding his cock so that he can rub it over my slit. Ugh, he needs to stop teasing me! "Tell me," he whispers, biting my bottom lip gently for a moment.

"Please," I beg breathlessly.

Taking my hands in his, he raises them up above my head. Ever so slowly he pushes inside, filling me the way no one else ever has. I resist the urge to close my eyes, keeping them locked with his.

"Fuck," he mutters. "I forgot how amazing you feel."

I'd never forgotten _that_. But just in case I had, he proceeds to show me once again why no other man I've been with can compare.

It's somehow different this time though. This time, his lips rarely leave mine. His cock continues to hit places no one else has, and I lift my hips, eagerly meeting his thrusts.

"Too good… can't last," he moans. "Come on, baby."

Edward places one hand under my back, tilting my hips just so, and I cry out from the feeling. He finally leaves my lips to suck on my breasts again, and I'm done for, floating as waves of pleasure flow through me again and again.

"Fuck!" he yells, following me over the edge a few thrusts later. When his hips still at last, I'm boneless, catching my breath.

"Ok," he finally mutters. "Gotta take care of business." He pulls out, then rolls off of me, making his way to the bathroom.

I bring my hand up, brushing my sweaty hair up and off my face, then roll onto my side as I wait to ogle Edward's naked body when he comes back into the bedroom.

He lies beside me on the bed, just watching me as he mirrors my position. Unable to resist, I reach out to place my hand behind his neck, then pull him forward so that I can kiss him. I slide my hand down from his neck, across his broad shoulder and onto his side. Edward has a beautiful body, and I haven't touched it nearly enough.

I push lightly on his side and he obediently rolls onto his back, grinning up at me. I lift my leg to straddle him, leaving wet kisses on his neck while I brush my hands over his muscular chest. I kiss my way down his chest, completely mesmerized by the man beneath me.

"You're beautiful," I whisper.

"Mmm… Should I be worried that you only want me for my body?"

"Your body, your lips… your cock," I add in a whisper, giving it a little tug.

"Do that again and I won't be able to control what happens," he growls.

Smiling, I finish my route down his stomach, running my tongue around his navel and admiring the defined V of his hips. I grasp his cock lightly, sliding my hand up and down a couple of times, and like magic, it hardens in my hand. His recovery time certainly hasn't suffered in the last few years.

There's no way in hell I could fit _all_ of that in my mouth, but I doubt many women could. Holding the base of his cock, I lick up to the tip, then slide the head into my mouth. Edward makes a strangled noise that I hope means he likes it.

"Fuck, Bella, you don't have to…"

He trails off as I slide as much as will fit into my mouth, then hollow my cheeks, sucking as hard as I can while I fondle his balls with my other hand. His little moans are totally turning me on; Edward is not afraid to let me know how much he's enjoying this.

"Fuck, baby, your mouth…"

I hold back my smile. Maybe I don't have a ton of sexual experience, but this is one area where my age may be an asset as compared to younger women.

I continue to lavish his cock with attention until Edward reaches out, tapping me on the nose. I lift my head in confusion.

"I need to be inside you," he whispers. He stretches out one of his long arms to reach the box of condoms, pulling out a foil packet and handing it to me. I carefully roll it down it his length, then lift up, sliding down onto him.

I rock back and forth slowly as I get used to the feeling, until Edward tugs on my hand, bringing me down to meet his lips. He takes control then, thrusting up off the bed until I'm seeing stars. Encouraging me to sit up a bit, he attaches his mouth to my breast, slamming me down onto his cock until we're both crying out in ecstasy.

Once I can move again, I get up to grab a nightshirt from the drawer, then follow Edward into the bathroom when he disposes of the condom. He looks at me questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, I'm gonna get ready for bed."

"Now you know I can go more than two rounds," he drawls.

"I do know that," I reply, feeling my face heat up. "But _I_ might need to work up to that one."

"It's not all that late…"

"I got up at five am," I enlighten him. "You-you can stay the night. I have a spare toothbrush," I offer him, pulling the fresh package out of a drawer.

"Thanks," he smiles, kissing me quickly.

Once we're both ready for bed, he follows me back into the bedroom, sliding under the covers still completely naked. As he spoons behind me, gathering me close, I feel his semi-hard cock against my ass. "Keep that thing under control."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies sleepily.

* * *

 **A/N:** Will Bella regret this in the morning?

Let me know what you're thinking! Prove me wrong in my assumption that lemony chapters get fewer reviews. You've all been waiting for this now!

I couldn't find a perfect Rob pic to accompany this chapter, so this one will have to do:

Robattack dot files dot wordpress dot com /2012/12/whitet010. jpg?w=500&h=650

Next update on **Monday**. The chapter title is a tough one to give clues for, unless you agree with me on the most overplayed artist of the 80s.


	24. Another Day in Paradise

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

No one guessed this chapter title. Until one later reviewer suggested that it may be a Bon Jovi song, everyone thought Madonna was the most overplayed artist of the 80s. When I saw all of those reviews on Friday, I asked five 40-something guys in my office for the most overplayed artist and got answers of Madonna, Bruce Springsteen, REO Speedwagon, Phil Collins, and Def Leppard.

I really dislike Phil Collins, and I've been sick of the man since 1985, but the title fit…

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 24: Another Day in Paradise_

I wake feeling… refreshed. I can't remember the last time I slept so well, and I'm sure it has everything to do with the young man I had snuggled up in bed with me all night.

As I turn over, I can't stop myself from holding my breath, thanks to that tiny paranoid part of my brain fearing that he may be gone. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find Edward sleeping soundly beside me, his lips formed into a pout. He looks so beautiful in his sleep, so innocent… so _young_.

God, what in the hell am I doing? While last night wasn't as bad as I'd feared, a relationship with Edward would mean judgmental stares and disparaging comments, just like Angela made last night. It would mean people wondering what he's doing with me, if I'm his sugar mama.

And it would mean nights filled with passionate kisses and toe-curling sex.

It's too early in the morning to think about this shit. Maybe I shouldn't think at all, just do whatever feels right.

I'm tempted to lift the covers and ogle his glorious nakedness to my heart's content, but he's sleeping so peacefully, and I don't want to wake him. With a sigh, I slide out of bed and head into the bathroom.

After using the toilet and brushing my teeth, I turn on the water in my shower, grabbing a set of towels while the water heats up. While I don't feel anyway near how I did the first time I had sex with Edward, muscles that I barely remember I _have_ ache. After going without sex for two years, I really need to get used to the things he can do to me.

I'm washing my legs when the shower door opens, startling me. Looking up, I see a very naked Edward step into the shower.

"You didn't invite me," he pouts.

"You were sleeping so peacefully," I shrug in response.

"Mmm… I can assure you that I am very much awake now," he purrs, pulling me into his arms. Oh yes, at least one part of him is wide awake. "What is this?" he laughs suddenly, the spray hitting him from the side as well as from overhead.

"This is my pride and joy," I reply with a smile.

"I like it," he whispers. He takes my face in his hands and plants a searing kiss on my lips. His tongue nudges my lips apart, then explores my mouth. I toss the shower poof in the direction of the seat so that I can wrap my arms around him.

In no time at all, I'm being lifted up so that Edward doesn't have to bend down so far to kiss me. I wind my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, holding on tightly. He takes a step forward, now pinning me against the wall so that one hand is free to massage my breast.

When he slips inside me, I'm reminded of our first time, when he fucked me against my front door. He hardly pauses before he starts moving his hips and sucking on my neck. Add in the water pounding me from all angles and it's the most intense experience of my life.

Edward never slows down, continuing to fuck me through my orgasm — and my second — before he pulls out suddenly. Shit, he wasn't wearing a condom… I hadn't even been coherent enough to notice. As the mess swirls down the drain, he leans his forehead on my shoulder, trying to catch his breath, before finally lifting his head to drop a sweet kiss on my lips.

"Ready?" he whispers.

"Again?!" I cry in disbelief, making him laugh.

"I _meant_ , are you ready for me to let you down," he chuckles. Oh. Boy, do I feel stupid. I nod, unwinding my legs.

I stand under the rain showerhead until I feel like I can move again. As I wash and condition my hair, Edward quickly washes up, stealing some of my shampoo with a wink.

When we're both finished, I turn the water off and fend him off from stealing my towel, pointing out the linen closet.

As I throw on yoga pants and a t-shirt, Edward steps into his very sexy boxer briefs, then heads for the bedroom doorway.

"Is that all you're going to put on?" I call.

"Do you really want me to put a shirt on, Bella?" he asks with a wink. "I see the way you stare at my chest."

Ok, he's really got me there.

"I don't suppose Riley left any clothes here? Sweat pants or something?"

"No," I shake my head. "He never stayed the night. And neither did Alec. I doubt either one of them owns sweat pants anyway," I add with a grin.

And that's how I end up seated at my breakfast bar, watching a mostly naked Edward cook breakfast while my morning coffee brews, when I ought to be checking emails on my phone. It's quite a view, the way his ass fills out his underwear.

When the coffee is ready, Edward pours me a cup, then brings me cream and sugar.

"You really don't have to wait on me," I chuckle. "I'm quite capable of getting up and making my own coffee."

"I know," he smiles, turning back to the stove. "I'm used to waiting on people though. It's kind of my job."

"That reminds me… I'm sorry."

"For…?"

"When Ben asked you last night about your college major, I realized that _I_ had never asked you."

"It's fine," he shrugs. "It's not like I really know yet what I want to do after college. I figured a major in Business would be pretty versatile."

I nod, though he can't see me. "And I'm really sorry about Angela. She thinks she's looking out for me."

Edward slides a perfectly cooked omelet onto a plate, setting it in front of me with a flourish. "It's not like I can blame your friends for worrying. If they knew the whole truth…" He trails off, shaking his head, then turns back to the stove to start on his own omelet.

I cut off a bite with my fork, and it's just as delicious as I expected. It seems like he basically raided my fridge for items to put in the omelet.

"I hope you're not offended that I didn't tell them the truth about how we met," I say cautiously when Edward sits down beside me. "It's not that you're my dirty little secret, but… I'm sure my friend Lauren would cheer me on if she knew you were a stripper," I chuckle. "But I work with Angela and Jessica, so…"

"Bella, it's fine," he replies, placing his hand on my arm. "Really. I'm not ashamed of my past as a stripper, but the rest, well… I wish I could take it all back."

I nod in response, digging into my breakfast. When we've finished, Edward insists on rinsing the dishes for me. I can't say that I don't enjoy the view as he bends over to put everything in my dishwasher.

"Were you staring at my ass?" he asks with a grin, startling me as he stands and turns around suddenly.

"Uh… maybe?" Shit, I can feel my face heating up.

Grinning, he stalks over to me, placing his hands at my waist. "I know you like my ass."

"It's an especially nice ass," I admit.

Leaning forward, he sucks gently on my bottom lip. I kiss him back, and in no time, he's holding me tightly and we're kissing passionately. I do love the way he kisses.

"Can I set you on the counter?" Edward asks, his lips brushing against mine with every word.

"No! We are not having sex on the counter or anywhere else in the kitchen."

"Who said anything about having sex?" he grins.

"Maybe that steel rod in your pants?"

Giggling, he tugs on my legs until I wrap them around him, then proceeds to rub that steel rod against me. Shit, we should do something today besides have sex, but he makes a very compelling case for going back upstairs.

"You're insatiable," I groan as Edward slides his hand up under my shirt.

"Are you really complaining? No 40-something guy can give you this." _Indeed._ "I've always heard that women reach their sexual peak later than men, which means we're perfect for each other."

"Is that so?" I retort… but any further discussion is stopped by the way he's sucking on my earlobe.

"I have an idea," he says all of a sudden, pulling back from me. I raise an eyebrow. "Let me dance for you."

"Dance?" I choke out. He nods, staring at me intently. "You stopped dancing when you came back to Seattle, right? I mean… you stopped waxing, anyway."

"Yeah."

"How come?" I ask curiously. I remember Edward telling me last year that he'd dance for as long as he could.

"Well, I obviously couldn't go back to New Moon. And the other place I worked…" he trails off, shaking his head. "Some of my old friends are connected there. Drug dealers," he specifies.

"Oh," I frown. "Do you miss it?"

"Yeah, I do. So let me dance for you. Do you have music on your phone?"

"Yeah, some," I nod. "My iHome is in my bedroom, if you want speakers."

"Perfect," he grins. "I get to take you back upstairs after all."

* * *

 **A/N:** This may be my favorite chapter lol.

So Edward got morning shower sex, but Bella vetoed counter sex. He'll keep trying though. And he's gonna give her a private dance!

Bella's rational side tried to peek through, but she's decided to stop thinking so much. She's got a hot young man who wants her, so she's just gonna enjoy herself. And stare at his ass. I mean, who wouldn't?

Anyone who is old enough to remember the 80s should be able to guess the next chapter title! I'm not even giving hints.


	25. Dancing in the Sheets

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Congratulations to **That'sMzPeachesTYVM** , who was the only reviewer to guess the chapter title! The most popular guess was Tina Turner's _Private Dancer_ , which I'll confess had never even occurred to me. I should've given the hint that it was from a movie ( _Footloose_ ) soundtrack!

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 25: Dancing in the Sheets_

Taking my hand, Edward leads me out of the kitchen. "Should I get my purse?"

"Why?" he asks, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

"So I can put some dollar bills in your underwear if I like the show," I tease.

He grins at me. "I can think of better ways for you to show your appreciation."

Once we've reached my bedroom, he encourages me to sit on my bed. I watch as he plugs the phone into my iHome, excited for the show I'm about to see.

"I've never even heard of most of these songs," he chuckles, flipping through my music. "I don't know what to pick."

It's a stark reminder of our age difference, but I try not to let it get to me right now. "I have a playlist of songs I work out to — maybe those would work?"

Nodding, Edward finds the playlist and the sound of early 90s dance pop fills the room.

"Maybe I have heard this one before," he shrugs as he starts putting on his clothes from last night.

Leaving his jacket on the dresser, his shirt untucked and his pants unzipped, Edward comes to stand before me, then begins swaying his hips to the beat. I can't help smiling as I watch him dance. His tie is loose around his neck, and just like the night we first met, he bends down in front of me, silently asking me to remove it.

Instead of allowing me to unbutton his shirt, he straightens up and does it for himself… at a torturously slow pace. I find myself licking my lips as each new inch of skin is revealed. And then I laugh as he does The Wave with his arms and shoulders.

When his shirt finally comes off, I applaud — though of course he's been shirtless all morning. Edward turns around and shakes his ass for me, then carefully removes his dress slacks, setting all of his clothes back on the dresser.

Though his boxer briefs aren't quite the same as a g-string, he still puts on quite the show for me for the next 10 minutes. I thought he was a good dancer five years ago, but he's even better now.

Turning around, he wiggles his underwear-clad ass in my face, making me smile. I reach out and give it a good squeeze, and he yelps in surprise. Suddenly, his hands are poised on his hips, his thumbs beneath the material. Is he…?

He is! Edward pulls his underwear down his legs, then steps out of them. God _damn_ , he has a nice ass. Before I can reach out to touch it again, he turns around to face me. My eyes are immediately drawn to his semi-hard cock and of course he smirks when he notices.

"See something you like, Bella?"

"Eh, I've seen better," I lie through my teeth.

Laughing, he steps closer and kneels on the bed, straddling my thighs, until his cock is just inches away from me. "Maybe you just need to take a closer look."

Biting my lip, I reach out, tugging a few times until he fully hardens in my hand. I suck the head of his cock into my mouth and he moans appreciatively.

"I was… planning to ask you… to dance with me…"

I pull my lips off with a pop, keeping a firm grip on his cock. "Not a good idea. I wasn't born with grace."

"It's all in the leading. You must not have had good partners."

"I can't have a conversation with you when Little Edward is in my face," I chuckle.

"Who you callin' _little_?" Edward complains in mock protest. Touché.

I let go of him as he moves back a bit. He sinks down until he's nearly sitting on my legs, tilting my chin up with his hand. "Is this better?" he whispers. Before I can reply, his lips are on mine. I open for him and his sensual kisses make my whole body tingle.

He starts moving above me, giving me a lap dance of sorts as he rubs his cock against me. When I feel his hands at the bottom of my t-shirt, I don't object when he pushes it up. He leaves my mouth long enough to remove my shirt, then kisses me again as he unhooks my bra.

"I thought you were supposed to be dancing for me," I protest as he encourages me to lie back, then gets to his feet, pulling my yoga pants and panties down in one swoop.

"I'm still gonna dance," he insists, slapping lightly at my hip. "Turn over."

I narrow my eyes at his bossiness, but I do as he says, flipping onto my stomach. Edward kisses his way down my spine, then pulls my hips until I'm perched on the edge of the bed on my knees.

I watch over my shoulder as reaches for a condom. Rubbing his hands over my ass, he dips one finger inside me, moving it in and out slowly.

"Are you ready for me, Bella?"

"Yes," I moan. Can't he _tell_?

I let out another long moan as he slowly joins us together. My head drops down and I close my eyes, concentrating on the way he feels inside me.

"Watch me," he whispers. I do my best to listen to him, to watch over my shoulder as he begins to move in time with the beat. I can't quite see his face, but I can see the way his abs contract with each thrust. He _is_ dancing… sort of.

When the music changes to a faster paced song, he speeds up his movements, still keeping in time with the beat. There's something so erotic about this; I'm on the edge in no time.

"C-close…" I whisper.

When Edward reaches around to touch me, I'm done for, a shaking, quivering mess. Still hard as a rock, he pulls out suddenly, encouraging me to flip over onto my back and move into the middle of the bed.

I'm momentarily confused until he kneels before me, throwing my legs over his shoulders, his tongue lapping at me. He looks up at me through his eyelashes and… oh hell. I scream through my next orgasm, then shove him away from my oversensitive lady parts.

Smirking, Edward scoots up to lie beside me, and I see he's still very, very hard. Rolling me partially onto my side, he slides into me from behind. He leans down to kiss me softly and I can taste myself on his lips.

I must make a bit of a face because he winks, moving his lips to suck at my neck while his hand massages my breast. He's still dancing, moving his hips in a punishing rhythm. Somehow he knows exactly how to hit that spot inside me that makes me scream. Jacob was my longest relationship, and in the nearly five years we were together, I don't think he made me come during sex as many times as Edward has already. Only because he was pretty good with his tongue did I not break up with Jacob sooner.

When Edward finally loses his rhythm, he comes back to my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine as we both reach our peaks.

"Damn," he utters, pulling out and rolling onto his back. I gingerly turn over to face him, finding myself wanting to lick the beads of sweat running down his chest. His eyes are closed, but he opens them, smirking at me before I can do it.

"Tell me some old man can do that," he says with a grin.

"You'd better be careful about how you throw around the word 'old'. Most of my boyfriends have been close to my age."

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I mean guys with gray hair, like that idiot last night."

"I'd have some gray hairs too if I didn't dye them."

"You're not old, Bella," he says softly, leaning over to kiss me. "If you were, you wouldn't be able to keep up with me." He stretches out on top of me then, kissing me again before he grimaces. "Guess I need to get rid of the condom."

I follow Edward into the bathroom, turning on the shower again. "Just a quick shower, then we're leaving the house. I _won't_ be able to keep up with you if you plan on spending the day in bed until you need to get to work."

"Fine, fine," he replies with an eye roll.

As the water heats up, I comb my fingers through my tangled hair then put it up in a bun on top of my head so I don't get it wet. And then I shriek.

"What is it, Bella?" he asks with concern.

"You gave me a hickey!" I cry, noticing the purple blemish on my neck.

"Just marking you as mine," he winks.

* * *

 **A/N:** Of course that private dance ended up between the sheets, which is why my title choice fit just slightly better. ;)

Edward had no problem going for The Full Monty, though he did sort of put his foot in his mouth at the end there.

Bella has put an end to their sexcapades for now, which means our regularly scheduled plot will return next time. Will Bella be able to hide her hickey from her friends?

Hmmm… next chapter… some readers say they have trouble guessing songs because my choices are too "pop" for what they listened to in the 80s, so here's one for you.


	26. Love Bites

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! We've reached 600 Favorites! That's a lot fewer readers than _The Man Next Door_ had by this point — I think there's a double standard among fic readers, preferring Olderward to Olderella.

I think you guys liked the last chapter? All of the reviews were positive… there just weren't very many of them, thereby proving my point once again about no one reviewing lemon chapters.

Congratulations to **SarcasticBimbo** and **SavageRob** (over on FictionPad), who were the only reviewers to guess the chapter title! I actually heard this song on "80s on 8" on Sirius XM on my way home last night.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 26: Love Bites_

After our shower, I manage to persuade Edward to get dressed and out the door. We stop by his condo first so that he can change into more casual clothes, then grab some lunch and see a movie — after much good-natured bickering as to what to see — before I need to drop him back off at home so he can get ready to go to work.

Despite his best efforts to convince me to come see him at Eclipse or give him a spare key so that he can surprise me in bed after the bar closes, I decline — on both counts. It's too soon to be giving him a key, even if I did enjoy snuggling with him last night.

And though I didn't say anything to Edward this morning, I also wonder if it's too soon for him to be claiming me as "his." We're just exploring our mutual attraction, aren't we?

Edward texts me once he wakes up on Sunday, then comes to pick me up for another date. He won't tell me what we're doing until he's parking his car downtown. We spend the day doing touristy things like visiting Pike Place Market and going up in the Space Needle. Maybe I'm just lost in Edward, but I really don't notice any funny looks from other tourists over the fact that I'm holding hands with such a young man.

Edward comes with me again while I shop for the week at Whole Foods, then watches me cook dinner for the two of us. After we've eaten, I let him get me naked again before throwing him out so that I can work. I know if I let him stay, the only work I'll be doing is studying his naked body.

* * *

And now it's Monday, and I'm trying not to be so obvious about my sexed-up weekend that Angela and Jessica — or any of my other coworkers — notice. Despite my early thoughts about making them jealous, I'm not really sure I'm ready to share Edward with anyone just yet. I had a great weekend, and I don't need anyone raining on my parade.

"Lunch?" Angela asks, sticking her head into my office around noon.

"I don't think I have time." I'm also still pissed off at her for her attitude on Friday night, even if I _do_ understand her concerns.

"You need to eat, Bella," she chastises. "Jess and I were just going down to the cafeteria since it's raining."

"Fine," I agree, grabbing my purse from my desk drawer.

I decide to just get a bowl of soup and the salad bar, before sitting down with the girls.

"Did you have a nice weekend?" Jessica asks. "What did you and Edward do after you left the art gallery?"

"Nothing, I dropped him off at home," I lie with a nonchalant shrug.

"What's that on your neck?" Angela asks. _Shit._ I thought I put enough concealer on the mark this morning.

"N-nothing."

"Show us!" she demands, and I reluctantly move all of my hair over my right shoulder, exposing the left side of my neck.

"Oh my God!" Jessica yells, getting the attention of several nearby tables. "That's a hickey!"

"Shhhh… keep your voice down!" I whisper-yell. "Ok, yes, it's a hickey."

"So… " Jessica begins with a lascivious grin, "What did you and Edward _really_ do after you left the art gallery?"

Before I can answer her, my phone dings with an incoming text. I pull it out of my purse, my brow furrowing at the message from Edward.

 **Does ur office have a door? - E**

I quickly reply with a "yes," wondering how that could possibly be relevant. I've barely had time to take a bite of my salad before his response back has me blushing from the top of my head down to my feet.

 **So I can fuck u on ur desk. - E**

As appealing as that sounds… _No dice. It also has a frosted glass wall. - B_

"Sexting?" Jessica asks, grinning at me.

"He was just seeing if I'm having a good day," I lie, making both of them laugh.

"So things are going well with you two?" Angela asks.

"Come on, let us old married women live vicariously through you," Jessica adds.

Another ding: **I could cum in after hours. - E**

 _Let me guess, that wasn't a typo. - B_

 **;) - E**

When I look up, both women are staring at me. "What?"

"I've never seen you like this, Bella," Angela says. "You're usually the serious, level-headed one, but something about this boy makes you more, I don't know, _relaxed_."

"He makes me feel young again," I admit. "I'm not going to question why Edward is attracted to me. For some reason, he wants me. He makes me feel more alive than I've felt in years."

"So the sex is good," Jessica grins.

"The sex is phenomenal," I gush, unable to keep it to myself any longer. "Edward has far more stamina than the guys I dated when I was in my 20s."

"Did you actually get out of bed at any time this weekend?" she asks, waggling her eyebrows.

"Of course we did! We saw a movie, and we spent much of yesterday downtown. Plus, you know, we had to eat," I add with a grin. "Edward had to work Saturday night, too."

"You seem really happy," Angela says with a smile. "Just… be careful, ok? Most men only seem to date women their own age or younger, unless they're looking for a sugar mama. Does Edward actually know you'll be 40 in a few months?"

"He does know that," I confirm, ignoring her comment about a 'sugar mama' for now. "I made sure he knew before I ever accepted a date with him. And I know it's not the usual, but…" I stop, running my hand through my hair, wondering if I'd be breaking Edward's confidence to explain at least some of his past to my friends. "Edward is kind of… mature for his age in a lot of ways. He had a rough time growing up."

"How rough?" Jessica asks with concern.

"His dad was an abusive alcoholic. He ended up going to prison when Edward was 16."

"Is that why he didn't go to college right after high school?" Angela asks.

"That's a big part of it, yeah." Indirectly, I suppose, but I don't think I'm lying to my friends. "You know, you really were kind of rude to him about that."

"I swear I didn't mean it to be," she protests. "I was just shocked initially to learn he was still in college, and then he said he was 23…"

"His mom is remarried now to a doctor who's paying for his schooling, by the way. And he's living in a condo he inherited from his late great-grandmother. So please don't suggest that he's with me for my money. He doesn't need a sugar mama."

It's clear that if I ever expect my friends to trust Edward, I can never _ever_ tell them about how we first met.

"I'll just say once more that you should be cautious," Angela says carefully. "You're our friend and we love you, and I know you've always had good judgment."

"Thank you," I reply with a small smile.

* * *

Edward continues to text me off and on for the rest of the day, until he has to get ready for work. Our schedules really don't match up all that well during the week, with him going to work around the same time that I come home from my own job. Maybe we'll be able to meet for lunch sometimes. Though in the fall, he'll be going to U-Dub during the day, as well.

And… now I'm imagining us still together four months from now.

I can't stop to think about it for too long or I'll start to question what in the hell I'm doing. Edward and I are having fun, I tell myself. Just because I will be 40 in four months does _not_ mean that the clock is ticking and I need to find a husband and start a family before I'm too old to do so. Until I meet the man I'm destined to spend the rest of my life with, I'm allowed to just have fun.

But… what if, against all odds, Edward could be that man?

* * *

I'm in a staff meeting on Tuesday afternoon, after the markets are closed, when my phone dings with a text message. I wouldn't ordinarily check it during a meeting, but it's been almost 24 hours since I last heard from Edward. Trying to look like I'm still paying attention, I swipe the screen and read the message.

 **Call me. - E**

My brow furrows. That's… odd. I thought young people were more comfortable texting?

Excusing myself, I walk back down the hall to my office and close the door. I hit the icon to call Edward, and he picks up on the first ring.

" _Bella? Sorry if I took you away from anything._ " There's some kind of background noise, almost like he's in a car. I guess that explains why he didn't want to text, if he's driving.

"Just a boring old staff meeting," I chuckle. "What's up?"

" _I've been arrested._ "

* * *

 **A/N:** D'oh! Now what do you think he's been arrested for?

So, two of Bella's friends know what she's been up to with Edward, and maybe you don't want to slap them this time? Or do you?

Up until this point, Bella hasn't really thought of Edward as being a long-term option, but against her better judgment, she's starting to wonder if she was wrong to think that…

Next update on **Monday**. Sorry/not sorry for the evil cliffie. No hints on a chapter title this time because I'm still thinking of changing the next two lol.


	27. Take On Me

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Most of you seem to think Edward's past has caught up with him, though some think he may have broken some law recently.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 27: Take On Me_

"Arrested?" I repeat in shock. "Where are you? Are you at the police station now?"

" _No, I'm on my way home,_ " Edward replies. " _I was arraigned earlier this afternoon and my parents paid my bail._ "

"What are the charges?" I ask, wondering if this has anything to do with his past… indiscretions.

" _Can-can we talk in person? I'm headed back to my parents' house on Mercer Island. I can text you the address._ "

"Ok," I reply, already grabbing my purse from my desk. "Do you have a lawyer?"

" _Sort of. Carlisle's lawyer was there when I was questioned and at the arraignment, but he hasn't done much criminal law in a while._ "

I walk swiftly down the hallway and out the office door, hitting the button for the elevator. "Ok, well, my friend Alice's husband _is_ a criminal lawyer — and a damn good one. I could give him a call right now."

" _Would you?_ " he sighs. " _That would be great. I-I'm scared, Bella._ "

The elevator dings and I step inside the open doors. "I'm getting into an elevator and the connection might cut out, so I'll say goodbye for now. Text me the address."

I don't get a reply, so I assume the connection is already lost. By the time I reach my car in the parking garage, I've got a text message. I type the address into my nav system, then immediately call Jasper's office using my Bluetooth.

" _Bella? Is something wrong?_ " Jasper asks, once his assistant has put me through to him. _"I don't think you've called me at work since the last time Alice went into labor._ "

"I need a lawyer," I blurt out. "Or rather, a friend of mine does."

" _A friend?_ "

"Yeah. His name is Edward. You-you don't know him. He was just arraigned and I'm headed over to meet with him and his family. I don't know any more details than that right now. Are you available to join us?"

" _I don't have any more appointments today,_ " Jasper confirms. " _I could probably head out in five to ten minutes. Do you have an address?_ "

"I'll text it to your cell. Thank you so much, Jasper. Edward is a… good friend. I don't know how much trouble he's in."

" _All right, see you soon._ "

I end the call then text the address to Jasper while I'm waiting at a stoplight. His office isn't all that far from mine, so if he does leave soon, he should arrive there not long after me.

As I drive, my head spins with the possibilities. I know that Edward stole from five other women besides me, but I just can't imagine how that could've come back to bite him _now_. Unless… one of them showed up at Eclipse and recognized him?

Of course, there is also the possibility that he's committed another crime recently, but… I truly believe he's turned his life around. And he could always be innocent of the charges, but he sounded scared on the phone, much more so than an innocent person might.

I follow the directions off I-90 to a good-sized home on Mercer Island. Not quite what I expected, but then, his stepfather is apparently a doctor. I park in the driveway and walk up to the front door, ringing the doorbell.

"Bella," Edward breathes as he throws the door open. Before I can reply, he's crushing me to him, hugging me tightly.

"It's gonna be ok," I try to reassure him, though of course I don't _know_ that. I have faith in Jasper though.

When he finally lets me go, Edward puts his arm around me, leading me into a large family room, anchored by a huge fireplace along one wall. An attractive woman with Edward's unusual hair color, who doesn't appear to be much older than me, is seated on the couch next to a handsome man who's perhaps in his mid 50s, with graying blond hair. Another slightly older man is sitting in an armchair.

"Bella, this is my mom and my stepdad, Esme and Carlisle Cullen. And this is Carlisle's lawyer, Bob Banner," he says, pointing toward the man in the chair. "Um, this is Bella Swan. My-my girlfriend."

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you, though I wish it were under better circumstances." This is so not the way I ever expected to be meeting Edward's parents. And he called me his girlfriend! I really hope he warned them about my age.

"Bella." Carlisle stands up, shaking my hand.

"Hello, Bella," Mrs. Cullen greets me as Edward leads me to sit with him on the loveseat. "Please call me Esme."

"Um, like I told Edward on the phone, my friend's husband is a criminal defense attorney — Jasper Whitlock. I've called him and he's on his way. He should be here shortly."

"Jasper Whitlock?" Mr. Banner says, sounding almost awed. "I've heard of him. If he agrees to take your case, you're in great hands, Edward."

"See? It'll be ok," I repeat, rubbing his back. "Could you give me a Cliffs Notes version of what happened before Jasper gets here?"

He sighs, and Carlisle stands, picking up a folded newspaper from on top of the coffee table and handing it to me. It's turned to the Lifestyle section, with a handful of photos from the gallery opening last Friday. Edward is clearly visible in the background in one of the photos.

It's on the tip of my tongue to ask if someone recognized him from the photo, but I'm not sure how much of his past Edward's parents are aware of. He seemed to indicate nothing but the drug addiction when we talked about it before.

"Two women saw that photo and went to the police, claiming I'm the one who stole from them several years ago," Edward explains, and I turn to look at him. "My parents know everything now," he adds quietly.

"Everything?"

"Except about you," he mouths.

"May I offer you something to drink while we wait, Bella?" Esme asks.

"Sure, yeah, that'd be great," I reply nervously.

"I started a pot of tea earlier, if you'd like?"

"Excellent," I smile.

I'm stirring cream and sugar into my cup when the doorbell rings. "Um, that's probably Jasper. Should I get it?"

"Please," Carlisle says, and I quickly move toward the foyer.

Jasper looks slightly surprised to see me answering the door, but then recovers, smiling. "Good to see you, Bella," he greets me, kissing my cheek.

Carrying his ever-present iPad, he follows me inside and I introduce him to Mr. Banner and Edward's parents. "And this is Edward Masen." Jasper shakes Edward's hand, then takes a seat in the armchair after Mr. Banner moves to the end of the couch.

Picking up the newspaper, I hand it to Jasper then retake my seat. "Two women went to the police after they saw this photo, claiming that Edward stole from them several years ago."

"Several years ago?" he asks, his eyebrow raised.

"Yes," Edward answers.

"How many years?"

"Four or five," he replies.

"Hmmm… the statute of limitations is only three years. Have you lived in Washington for the last several years?" Jasper asks.

"Um, no, I-I lived in California for about three and a half years."

"Ok, the statute of limitations is suspended while you're not a resident of the state, so it hasn't yet run out in your case. Did the two women file police reports at the time?" Jasper asks.

"Yes, both of them did apparently," Mr. Banner replies.

"Do you have copies of the reports?"

"I don't, but I could request them."

"Please do that," Jasper nods. "I need to know what type of evidence the police have. If you can get an electronic copy, you can forward it to me and I'll bring it up on my iPad."

Mr. Banner stands up, moving into Dr. Cullen's office to make his call. I wonder what kind of evidence the police may have, considering the Newcastle police have Edward's fingerprints from _my_ report.

"Which jurisdiction is it?" I ask as soon as the thought pops into my head.

"Bellevue," Edward replies. "For both." I breathe a small sigh of relief. It's got to be a good thing that these two incidents weren't also in Newcastle.

"The photo caption doesn't mention you by name, so how did the police trace you?" Jasper asks.

"The police went to the art gallery where the photo was taken and showed it around," Esme explains. "The owner apparently remembered seeing Edward with Bella, so they checked the guestbook for the name of the man who'd signed in with her."

"My boss's wife owns the art gallery," I clarify for the Cullens' benefit, deciding to worry later about what this means that my _boss_ knows, "So it makes sense that she'd remember me… and Edward."

I'm overcome with guilt now; this is my fault. It had never even occurred to me that Edward's photo may end up in the newspaper. Now that I think about it, I suppose someone at the gallery opening itself could've recognized him, too. The type of women he stole from is exactly the type to attend events like that.

"So… are you guilty?" Jasper asks, looking directly at Edward.

* * *

 **A/N:** Only one reader had concerns before the art gallery chapters, worried that someone Edward had slept with may be there. Moosals had wondered the same thing when pre-reading, so I was surprised that more of you hadn't.

Some were mad at Edward after the last chapter, thinking he was calling Bella to bail him out, but it turns out that he wasn't. She did the smart thing and called the best lawyer she knows. Will Edward tell him the truth? And if he does, will Jasper still agree to help him?

Oh yeah, Bella met his parents! And he introduced her as his girlfriend.

I'm not a lawyer or involved in law enforcement in any way, so apologies if something isn't stated correctly. I Googled the info on the statute of limitations for robbery.

All I have for the next chapter right now is an ironic title lol.


	28. An Innocent Man

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Most of you want to see Edward get off with nothing worse than probation and a fine, though at least one person wants to see him do time, and one wants Bella to dump him and his drama!

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 28: An Innocent Man_

Edward stares at Jasper, looking like a deer in headlights for a moment. "Yes, I'm guilty," he finally says.

"You stole from two women," Jasper clarifies.

"No… I stole from six women."

Jasper lets out a long sigh, staring back at Edward. "So there's a possibility that four other women could also see this photo and go to the police."

" _One_ other woman, I think. Um, two of the women were… they were married. I doubt they want to bring attention to themselves."

"That still leaves one you're discounting," Jasper states, and I know it's time for me to confess my part in this.

"The last one is me, Jasper," I admit, hoping Edward isn't upset with me for speaking up. "I was one of Edward's victims." I hear his parents gasp at the revelation.

" _You_ were?" Jasper questions in disbelief. "I don't remember you ever mentioning anything like that."

"I was humiliated enough going to the police! I wasn't about to tell anyone else, even Alice."

"You went to the police?" Edward whispers.

"Yeah, I did," I nod, squeezing his hand. "I wanted you caught and punished. They… they were able to get usable fingerprints from my house — the Newcastle police. But there weren't any matches when they searched the FBI database." I look over at Jasper anxiously, wondering if my actions could be Edward's downfall.

"Most police departments are pretty inept when it comes to talking to other departments. Unless the cases were very similar, I doubt the Bellevue police would know about your report in Newcastle, and vice versa."

"But what about finding him in the databases _now_?" I ask.

"Police departments typically submit the fingerprints of those arrested for serious crimes," Jasper explains, "So I doubt the fingerprints found at your house were submitted. If they had been, we would've already heard of a match from when Edward was booked and fingerprinted."

"The police really didn't seem to take my case seriously at all," I remember, hoping that means my report won't come to light now. "I had to do some of the investigating myself, but it still turned into a dead end."

"How did you end up here then?" Jasper asks curiously. "How did you eventually find Edward? And why didn't you turn him in?"

"Um, I ran into Edward in Monterey, on my vacation last year. He told me he'd turned his life around, and I made the decision not to turn him in.

"He explained that he'd grown up with an abusive father and gotten addicted to drugs," I continue. "He stole in order to pay back drug dealers who were threatening to hurt his mother. After the drug dealers put _him_ in the hospital, he went to rehab in California and continued to live there before moving back to Seattle at the beginning of this year."

Jasper frowns, looking over at Edward's parents. "Dr. Cullen is his stepfather," I point out.

"He was telling the truth," Esme speaks up. "My ex-husband has been in prison for attempted murder for the last seven years. We learned about Edward's drug problem about four years ago and sent him to rehab, but we had no idea he'd stolen from anyone until his arrest yesterday.

"I blame myself for his mistakes. If I'd had the strength to leave his father sooner, he would never have turned to drugs. He would never have had to steal. I feel awful for the women he victimized, but he's on the right path now. He's turned his life around. I can't bear the thought of my baby going to prison," she sniffs. Carlisle puts his arm around his wife, comforting her.

Jasper is awfully quiet, staring at the fireplace; I hope that's not a bad sign. "What are you thinking, Jasper?" I finally ask.

"What did you tell the police, Edward?" Jasper asks.

"Nothing," he says. "I denied everything and told them it must've been a case of mistaken identity."

"Hmmm… and what exactly did you steal?"

"Um, cash and jewelry mostly, whatever I could grab easily."

"So you were inside the victims' homes." Edward nods a bit sheepishly. "And given your comment earlier about two of the women being married… I'm guessing sex was somehow involved."

I can feel my face heat up, wondering what Jasper must be thinking of me right now.

"When I came across a woman who seemed… wealthy, I'd charm my way into her home and seduce her, then steal from her while she was sleeping. You can say it — I was a horrible person and I deserved to get caught, especially now that I've got my life together."

Hearing the disgust in his voice, I reach over, hugging Edward to me.

"I'm assuming you've long since sold the jewelry, so it'd be pretty tough to tie you to the missing items," Jasper states. "Unless the police have got your fingerprints or something like that, their entire case rests on eyewitness identification, that you're the same Edward they met years ago."

"Wait!" I exclaim suddenly. "Edward told me his name was Ethan, and he was wearing green contacts when I met him." I turn to Edward expectantly.

"I wore the contacts for all except the first one," he confirms. "And I never used my real name. I-I'm not sure now what names I did use."

Jasper is in deep thinking mode again when Mr. Banner comes back into the room. "Got it," he says, holding up his iPhone. Jasper recites his email address, and Mr. Banner forwards the documents to Jasper, who then opens up his iPad.

"Let's see," he begins. "The first police report is dated June 5, 2010. Kate Garrett described you as being named Kyle, with auburn hair, green eyes and no body hair. Police dusted for fingerprints but found nothing."

I breathe a sigh of relief; that's one case with nothing they can use against Edward.

"Second case, dated April 25, 2011, reported by Tanya Denali. She said she was robbed by a brunette, green-eyed man named Corey… Police found only a partial fingerprint, but it was too smudged to be of any use."

Bless his unusual hair color… even the descriptions don't match each other, beyond the green eyes. We're all silent for a few moments. "So… that's good, right?" I finally ask.

"Yes, it's good," Jasper confirms. "There doesn't seem to be any physical evidence. Is there anything else that may positively identify you, Edward?" he asks. "Any tattoos, birthmarks, anything like that?"

"I have a tattoo on my back now, but I only got it three years ago. I can't think of anything else."

"Bella?" Jasper asks, turning to me. If it were possible for me to get any redder, I'm sure I would be now.

"Um, well, back then he… he worked as a dancer and waxed his body hair, like the first report noted, but he no longer does that. I can't think of any distinguishing marks." Having a very nice ass isn't an identifiable trait, I don't think.

Jasper nod, a slight smile on his lips. "Then the police have no case. They have two women who claim you're the man who stole from them four and five years ago. The names don't match yours, the eye color doesn't match yours…

"No jury today would convict based on that; they've all seen too many episodes of _CSI_. They're looking for some sort of physical evidence in order to convict, but there's nothing. You may resemble the man — or men — in question, but there's absolutely no proof it's you. It'd be far too easy to show reasonable doubt."

"What happens now then?" Esme asks.

Jasper looks back at his iPad, his fingers moving across the screen for a few moments, then nods. "I have two hours free after lunch tomorrow. That's enough time for me to talk with the police and prosecutor, point out that they'll never win a jury trial, and convince them to drop the charges."

"You'd do that?" Edward gasps. "Even though I'm guilty?"

"It's not the first time I've defended a guilty person. I don't make a career of that, but I'm a firm believer that no one should do time without real, solid evidence of their guilt. Years-old eyewitness accounts are not evidence. Too many people's memories fail them and they accuse the wrong guy. Fine, the police had to bring you in for questioning after the two women came forward, but I don't believe you should've even been arrested with what they had to go on, let alone charged."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Whitlock," Esme says, looking as if she's about to start crying. "Believe me, I know that what Edward did was wrong. I wish there was some way to compensate his victims without admitting guilt. If he still lived at home, I'd ground him until he's 30."

"Thank you, Jasper," I say fervently.

He nods at me, standing up. "Edward, meet me at the courthouse at 1pm tomorrow and we'll end this, all right?"

"I'll be there. Thank you, Sir."

"Bella, will you walk me out?"

"Of-of course." I follow Jasper to the door, and he turns to look at me once he's stepped onto the porch.

"Are you _involved_ with him, Bella?" he questions quietly.

"Yes," I admit.

"Be careful, all right? I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I exclaim, the stress of the last couple of hours getting to me. "I'm a big girl, Jasper. Edward isn't the same man he was the first time we met. I trust him."

"He seems awfully young."

"And a young man can't be interested in me?"

"I didn't say that," he says quickly, holding his hand up in surrender.

"You were thinking it, just like everyone else."

Jasper gives me a small smile. "I need to get home. This should all be over with tomorrow. Take care, Bella."

"Bye, Jasper. Thank you again," I call as I close the door behind him. I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before making my way back into the family room.

"Bella, I can't thank you enough for calling Mr. Whitlock," Esme says, smiling gratefully as I retake my seat next to Edward.

"It's no problem, really. Jasper's wife, Alice, has been my best friend since college, so I've known him for years. I know he's the best."

"So… you're dating my son."

* * *

 **A/N:** See, an ironic title lol.

Bella had to speak up about how she fits in. Jasper thinks he can end this quickly, but is it that easy? Is the damage done?

And now that the immediate danger has lessened… Bella will have to face Mama Bear Esme.

Once again, I'm not a lawyer or involved in law enforcement in any way, so apologies if something isn't stated correctly. It's incredibly hard to Google some scenarios.

Umm… dipping into the hair band archives again for the next chapter title. I remember the song was our prom theme back in 1988, ha.


	29. Is This Love

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Congratulations to **Bevey99** and **boo1414** for guessing the chapter title from Whitesnake!

Everyone liked Jasper, and hopes that Esme's gratefulness will mean this won't be totally awkward.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 29: Is This Love_

I sit up straighter, looking Edward's mother in the eye. "Yes, Ma'am, we've been seeing each other for a few weeks."

"Despite the fact that he stole from you…"

"Edward can be pretty persistent," I reply with a small smile. "I truly believe he's turned his life around."

"Edward had mentioned that you're older than he is, but I can't help but notice that you're much closer to my age than Edward's."

"Mom!" Edward yells. "Now isn't the time to harass Bella, ok?"

"I wasn't harassing her, dear."

"It's fine, Edward," I assure him, taking his hand in mine. "I'm 39 years old, Mrs. Cullen. I'm not a cougar — I've never dated a younger man before. In fact, I turned Edward down several times before I finally agreed to a date with him."

Edward's mother eyes me carefully; it's a bit surreal to now have _my_ motives questioned. "When you two first met, he must've been only 18 or 19."

"At the time, I assumed he was at least 25," I defend myself. "I was mortified when we ran into each other in Monterey last summer and I found out his real age." God, I still remember my panic when he told me he'd been underage when he worked at New Moon.

"That's enough, Mom," Edward says flatly. "It's no one else's business how and when we met, the first or the second time. It's no one else's business how large the age difference is between us. Isn't Carlisle almost 15 years older than you?" He stands up, pulling me with him. "Thanks for… bailing me out, Carlisle."

"Of course, Edward," he replies.

"I'm sorry for my questions," Esme pleads. "Please, stay for dinner. I'd love the chance to get to know Bella."

"I just want to be alone with her right now," he replies quietly, tugging on my hand.

"It was good to meet you both," I toss over my shoulder as Edward drags me to the front door. Once we're outside, he hugs me tightly, clinging to me. I brush my fingers through his hair, trying to calm him.

"Thank you," he whispers.

"Is your car here?" I ask quietly, not seeing it in the driveway.

He shakes his head. "The police picked me up at home, just before I left for Eclipse last night."

Once I'm settled in the driver's seat of my own car, Edward leans his head back, exhaling heavily. "Mom had no right to talk to you that way," he says quietly.

"It's not like I haven't heard it all before from my friends." I start the car, backing out of the driveway.

"Why does everyone think it's their business if we want to be together?"

"They claim it's out of concern."

"Well, fuck that," he sighs, pulling out his phone. "I need to call work." I can't avoid overhearing as Edward explains to his boss that he had a family emergency, and that he'll be back at Eclipse tomorrow night.

"Can we get something to eat?" he asks as he puts his phone away. "I didn't get lunch at the police station."

"Sure, of course. Did you spend the night in a cell?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "I could really use a nice comfortable bed tonight." He looks over at me with an adorable pout, and I know without him asking that he wants to spend the night with me. And I know I'm going to say yes.

"Anything in particular you want for dinner?" I ask as I exit the freeway near my home.

"Just food," he replies, making me smile. I decide to take Edward to one of my favorite restaurants, at the Newcastle golf club.

"Um, what is this place?" he whispers as we step inside. "I don't think I'm dressed for it."

"You're fine, Edward."

"I really don't feel comfortable here. I mean, it looks expensive."

I turn and look at Edward, frowning. I have no problem with buying his dinner, but I guess I can understand why he doesn't want me to spend a lot of money on him right now.

"How about if we just go to their pub section?" I suggest. "It's more casual, and the menu is smaller and cheaper."

Once we're seated and have placed our orders, Edward looks around the room, playing with the straw in his glass of Coke. "I feel like people are staring at us."

"They're probably in awe of how handsome you are," I scoff.

He gives me a small smile. "Do you think it'll always be like this?"

"Like what?"

"Nosy people wondering why we're together."

"Where is this coming from?" I set down my glass of wine. "It seems like our positions are reversed, and now _you're_ the one who's unsure about us. No one was staring at us Friday night, Edward, and I doubt they are now unless they're jealous of me."

"I _am_ sure about you, but…"

"But what?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing," he sighs. "It's just been a really fucking long 24 hours. Maybe we should've just gone to your house and ordered in, so we could eat naked," he winks.

I roll my eyes. "Later," I promise.

Once we've finished our meals, I forego dessert — though I want to marry their salted caramel cheesecake — and ask for the check. Edward still seems a bit off, and I have to admit that the idea of getting naked with him sounds appealing.

I drive us to my place, and we're barely inside the door before Edward throws me over his shoulder, fireman style, then makes a beeline for the stairs. "Wait!" I giggle, slapping his very fine ass as I hang upside down. Undeterred, he continues upstairs, tossing me onto my bed.

"I—" I'm cut off by his lips on mine, his tongue fighting its way between my lips. I throw my arms around him, hugging him to me as I kiss him back.

Suddenly, he's sitting up, working quickly at the button fly on his jeans. I take the opportunity to remove my jacket and the jewelry I wore to work. Before I can get the rest of my clothes off, Edward has the box out of the drawer and is rolling a condom down his erection. He lifts my skirt up to my waist, pulls down my panties, and buries himself inside me, both of us still fully clothed from the waist up.

"Fuck," he groans, slapping his hand on the bed. I tug on his hair until he brings his lips back to mine. It's wild and fast and passionate; I feel like he's trying to fuck me into the mattress. By the time he's grunting with his release, we're both covered in sweat and tangled in our clothes.

Edward collapses on top of me, breathing heavily, and I mindlessly run my fingers through his sweaty hair. Finally he lifts his head, leaning his chin on my chest. "Not done with you yet," he mumbles.

* * *

If this is a dream, it feels incredibly real. I'm almost afraid to open my eyes and find out it's just a dream, that Edward is _not_ between my legs.

Finally I do open my eyes, and the top of Edward's chaotic hair between my thighs is the only thing I can see in the moonlight. I let out an involuntary moan and I can almost feel his smile against my skin, knowing that he's succeeded in waking me up.

I have no idea what time it is. Despite our relatively early night, I think it was at least midnight before Edward finally let me go to sleep. He was most definitely not done with me after just one round. He took me up, down, forward and backward, leaving me thoroughly fucked.

I loved every single minute of it.

"Oh…" I mumble when he slides one finger inside me. His tongue never stops lapping at me. Somehow he knows just the right amount of pressure to drive me crazy without sending me over the edge.

"Edward, please," I finally beg. He rewards me by sucking my clit into his mouth, moving his tongue faster and faster until I'm shuddering, trying to hold in my screams.

"Beautiful," he whispers, crawling up my body. He leaves a soft kiss on my lips then pushes his cock inside me, achingly slowly.

 _God_ , I will never get used to how amazing he feels inside me. His hands move reverently over my body while he kisses every inch of skin he can reach. He's taking his time… truly making love to me.

I tangle one hand in his hair, using the other to grab his ass, trying to get him to move faster, harder. He won't be swayed though.

Minutes… hours… who knows how long, before Edward groans loudly. "You feel so fucking good. You're gonna make me come."

"Isn't that the idea?" I chuckle, bringing his lips to mine. He speeds up his movements — finally — pushing both of us over the edge.

"I love you," he whispers, so quietly I can hardly hear him.

I'm too stunned to reply. Love? It's too soon, isn't it? Do I love Edward? I think maybe I could one day, but I don't think I'm there yet.

The longer I go without saying anything, the more awkward it gets… for me, anyway. I'm still contemplating what I can say to that declaration when Edward groans, rolling off of me. I turn to face him but his eyes are already closed.

Running my hand through his hair, I kiss the tip of his nose softly then tuck myself under his chin.

* * *

 **A/N:** Quite a declaration there from Edward! Poor Bella didn't know what to say, so she settled for saying nothing. It's quite possible her brains were scrambled from too many orgasms.

Esme really wasn't that bad, I don't think. Pretty typical "Mom" questions, even if Edward didn't like it. Bella is kind of resigned to hearing negative comments about their relationship, but he isn't yet used to it.

Next update on **Monday**. Because I have to. ;) We'll find out how it goes at the courthouse!


	30. New Moon on Monday

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! **Bevey99** was the only reviewer to realize I _was_ giving you a clue to this chapter's title, though still didn't pick the right "Monday" song.

Most of you feel bad for Edward, saying 'I love you' and getting no response from Bella.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 30: New Moon on Monday_

The loud buzzing of my alarm clock wakes me from a deep sleep. I reach over to turn it off, seriously contemplating hitting the snooze button instead.

I can't though… I need to drive Edward home on my way to work.

"What the fuck?" he mumbles. "It's still dark out."

"It's 5am — that's when I always get up during the week." Edward groans, covering his head with the pillow, and I chuckle, climbing out of bed. I use the bathroom then start the water in the shower.

I expect Edward to join me in the shower, but he doesn't. As I wash up, I see the… evidence that he forgot to use a condom that last time in the middle of the night. _Shit._ Pulling out in the shower last weekend was one thing, but this is quite another. Of course, at my age the chance for pregnancy is slim, but I should still stop by a drugstore for emergency contraception, just to be safe.

I finish up quickly, then get dressed and brush my teeth. Stepping back into the bedroom, I find Edward still in bed, sound asleep.

"Edward," I whisper, kneeling down and stroking my hand through his hair. "You need to get up so I can take you home. Remember you have to meet Jasper at one o'clock."

He groans adorably, reminding me of a five-year-old who doesn't want to get up for school, then eventually sits up, his hand tugging at his hair. "I know how you can wake me up," he mutters.

"Later," I chuckle. "I need coffee. _Someone_ kept me up too late."

Since he's at least sitting up, I figure he won't fall back asleep if I leave him alone, so I head downstairs to start my coffeemaker and bring in the newspaper. I never eat much before work, so I just grab a granola bar and a banana, sitting down at the breakfast bar.

I hear the shower turn on upstairs and ten minutes later, Edward walks into the kitchen in yesterday's clothes, seemingly still half asleep. "There's coffee," I nod toward the machine, and he pours himself a cup, coming to sit beside me. I indulge myself and stare at him for a few moments. He hasn't shaved in at least two days, by my estimation, and the stubble looks good on him.

I debate whether or not I should bring up Edward's confession last night. Maybe it was just something he said in the heat of the moment and didn't really mean. I might embarrass him by mentioning it now. Or upset him, when I'm still unable to say it back.

"So…" I stop, clearing my throat, "I'd come with you and Jasper, but an older woman — who's not your mother — at your side would probably not look good."

"Right," he mumbles.

"It's gonna be ok," I assure him, taking his hand. "Jasper sounded pretty confident. Call or text me when it's over, all right?"

"I will."

Once I've finished my coffee, I head upstairs to get ready. When I come back down, Edward is shoving a granola bar in his mouth. "Ready?" I ask him, and he nods.

The drive to Edward's condo is mostly quiet. I don't know him well enough to say if something is really wrong, or if he's just tired. I drop him off with a quick kiss, then head to the office.

It's nearly 2:30 when I get a text from Edward letting me know that Jasper talked the prosecutor into dropping all charges. I lean my head against the back of my chair, letting out the breath I feel like I've been holding since our phone call last night.

A second text asks what time I'll be home, since he'd like to stop by before going to work at Eclipse. I text back **4:30** then make a mental note to actually leave in time to be home then.

Wirth near perfect timing, Edward ends up pulling into my driveway right after me. I let him in through the garage, and as I set my purse down, my brow furrows at the odd look on his face, now that I can see him better.

"What is it, Edward?" I ask in alarm. "I thought you said they dropped the charges?"

"They did," he replies with a nod. "Um, c-could you sit down?" He motions toward one of the chairs at the island and I turn it to face him, then take my seat.

Edward tears at his hair with both hands, and I'm starting to get really concerned about what he has to say. Surely no one else has come forward?

"I don't think we should see each other anymore," he blurts out.

I can do nothing but stare at Edward. I couldn't have heard him right, not after last night.

"You're breaking up with me?" I finally whisper.

He nods, his eyes burning into mine.

"But… last night you said… you said you love me. Was that a lie?"

"It's not a lie," he whispers. "I do love you. That's why I have to do this."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"I'm no good for you, Bella," he says fervently, stepping forward and taking my hands in his. "I'm just gonna bring you down. Jasper made these charges go away, but what if one of the other women comes forward? What if there's more evidence next time? How would it look for you if your boy toy boyfriend goes to jail?"

"Edward…" I start, feeling helpless. "You can't think like that, expecting the worst to happen."

"The last thing I want to do is hurt you," he pleads. "Even if no one else comes forward, the threat will always be there — at least until the statute of limitations runs out."

"You need to let _me_ worry about how that will affect me, all right?" Deep down though, my doubts are starting to swirl. What _would_ happen if he actually has to face charges one day?

"I can't bear to be the one to hurt you, not _again_. You shouldn't have to deal with the things Mom said to you. Or your friends. You shouldn't have to deal with questions about why you're with me, or why I'm with you."

"You're right, I shouldn't — _we_ shouldn't have to deal with crap like that. But… ending things just seems like it would be letting them win. It'll die down. They'll move on to something else."

"I'm not good enough for you, Bella. You deserve a guy who's more like you, with a career you can actually tell your friends about.

"This isn't what I want," he pleads, "But I know it's what I need to do."

The look on Edward's face says that he's being completely honest. He's clearly thought this through, and he's breaking up with me due to some… misguided sense that he's doing the right thing. I could see that he was having doubts while we were eating dinner last night, but then he was all over me from the minute he got me home. I thought he'd decided to let it go — what could've brought this on?

"Did someone say something to you? Your parents?"

"I haven't talked to my parents, except to tell them the charges were dropped. This was _my_ decision, Bella."

"Did _Jasper_ say something to you?" I persist. Edward's eyes drop to the floor for just a moment, long enough for me to know that I'm on the right track. "What did Jasper say to you?"

"He just told me not to hurt you."

"I'm not sure I believe that's _all_ it was. Something has changed since you couldn't get enough of me last night." Is it because I couldn't return his feelings, I wonder? If I could say it, would he change his mind? I can't tell him I love him and not mean it though. That's gotta be worse than not saying it at all.

"I've just had time to think, that's all. I don't deserve to get the girl after everything I did."

I roll my eyes. "Who's to say what you do or do not deserve? The things you did were wrong, and you hurt people, yes. But I understand why you did it, and I chose to forgive you.

"Come here." I crook my finger and Edward takes a step closer. Bringing my hand up, I cup his cheek, stroking my thumb back and forth, and I think I see him shudder. "I took a chance that you begged me to take, saying yes to a date with you, and it turns out I was right. We're good together. Don't do this, Edward."

His blue eyes look so sad as they stare into mine. Finally, he takes my hand in his, moving it from his face and kissing the back of it.

And I know he's not going to change his mind.

"It's for the best," he whispers. Dropping my hand, he takes a step back, then inhales deeply. "I'll let myself out. Goodbye, Bella."

I sit frozen to my spot while Edward walks out of my kitchen. As I hear the front door closing, a tear leaks from my eye. Against all odds, he's gotten under my skin.

I don't know how long I sit there, staring into space. With most of my break-ups, I would call one of my girls and we'd share a pint of Chunky Monkey. Probably not the best idea right now, when they were all rooting for this to happen.

Instead, I wipe my eyes, slide off the bar stool, and head upstairs to change out of my work clothes. As I undress, I see the beard burn from our middle-of-the-night loving covering the inside of my thighs, and I'm reminded about needing to get emergency contraception.

Though I really just want to curl up on the couch, I force myself to drive to a drugstore — skipping the one closest to my house so that the usual pharmacist doesn't recognize me — and buy a package of Plan B. I take the single pill when I get home, then heat up some leftovers.

As I pick at my meal, I think about the all-work-and-no-play life I had before Edward crashed his way into it last month. I'm not sure I was really living — I don't want to go back to that. But how can I learn to be "Fun Bella" without him?

* * *

 **A/N:** It may be Wednesday in the story, but Duran Duran's #10 hit from 1984 was the perfect title!

So, that happened. Edward pulled a New Moon on Bella, though unlike canon Edward, he was honest about his intentions. Do you think Bella is right that Jasper said something to him? Or is it because she couldn't return his declaration of love? Or something else? What should Bella do now?

I think only one reviewer mentioned the lack of condom that last time. Bella was on the case though.

The next chapter title is one of two 80s #1 songs (in the US) by a band who released their last CD in late 2014.


	31. With or Without You

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Congratulations to **Ninkita** and **peachtreegirl** for correctly guessing the chapter title! **Bevey99** got the right band (U2), but wrong song.

Seems like most of you were totally caught off guard by what Edward did! Most readers want Bella to go after her man, though some very kindly say "good riddance."

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 31: With or Without You_

The next morning, I go to the office as usual, throwing myself into my work. With one little white lie about a client meeting over lunch, I don't have to face Angela and Jessica, who will surely notice that something is wrong. I'm not ready to deal with them yet.

I'm curled up on the couch with a book and a bowl of ice cream around 8:30pm when my doorbell rings. My first thought is that it's Edward, but of course, he's at work — or he _should_ be.

Heaving myself off the couch, I walk out to the foyer, throwing the door open.

"Isabella Marie Swan, you have some serious explaining to do!" Alice greets me with her hand on her hip, as if she's talking to one of her children.

Sighing, I lean my shoulder against the door, staring down at my friend. "I'm not in the mood, Alice."

"Tough," she retorts, waltzing across the threshold. I close the door with another sigh, following her into the living room. Retaking my spot on the couch, I pick up the bowl of ice cream, trying to finish it before it melts.

Alice finally takes a seat on the other end of the couch, looking at me disapprovingly. "Where's your boy toy?"

"At work," I reply, not really wanting to admit that he's dumped me — or fight with her about the terminology.

"I can't believe you lied to me."

"About what?" I exclaim, setting my empty bowl on the coffee table.

"You said you met Edward when he was tending bar at a restaurant. You didn't say anything about him stealing from you!"

My mouth gaping, I stare back at Alice. The only way she could have known that is if Jasper told her. "What the fuck happened to attorney-client privilege?" I ask angrily.

"You're the one who told Jasper, not Edward."

Closing my eyes, I bury my head in my hands. She's right, of course. _I_ told Jasper that I was Edward's victim; it's not privileged communication. Still, I would've expected him to abide by confidentiality guidelines and not tell anyone _anything_. Maybe there's an exception for your spouse.

"Did you really meet him in a restaurant?" Alice asks more quietly.

I nod, then lift my head. "In Monterey, last summer."

"Where did you meet him the first time?"

 _Oh hell_ , if she already knows he stole from me, I might as well tell her everything. "Do you remember my 35th birthday when you took me to that male strip club?" She nods. "He was the dancer who brought me on stage."

Alice's eyes widen and she just stares at me for at least a minute before opening and closing her mouth several times. "Ok, first of all — you had sex with that smokin' hottie?"

"Several times," I reply with a smirk.

"Jesus…" She shakes her head. "So the story about your headache was a lie so you could leave with him?"

"What?! No! I was waiting for the cab outside when Edward came up to me and offered to wait with me. I-I ended up offering to let him share my cab, and then… and then he asked me to invite him in. We had sex and… in the morning he was gone."

"What did he take?"

"Jewelry, mostly. Some cash from my purse. Like I told Jasper, I went to the police but we just ran into one dead end after another."

"That's why I never see you wearing that sapphire bracelet anymore! I wondered what happened to it."

"That's why," I nod. "He didn't take my grandmother's bracelet, but he got pretty much everything else of value. I filed an insurance claim, so I'm not really out anything," I reply defensively.

"As if that makes it ok," Alice scoffs. "Why the hell didn't you turn him in when you found him in Monterey? Jasper said something about some sob story with an abusive father and a drug addiction."

Standing up, I pace back and forth a couple of times before stopping in front of Alice. I know I don't owe her any explanation, but I want her to understand. "Edward explained to me why he'd stolen from me, and that he'd gone to rehab and turned his life around. I chose to believe him and let it go. I didn't expect to ever see him again, but then he ended up moving back to Seattle at the beginning of the year."

"How did you know he worked at Eclipse?" she asks curiously. "Or was that just a coincidence?"

"I—he'd asked for my number last summer, and I gave it to him. He texted me about his new job."

"Why the hell would you get involved with this guy, Bella?" Alice yells. "A former male stripper, and more importantly, a former drug addict? Oh my God… are you having some sort of midlife crisis?"

"I'm not even 40 yet!" I retort, sitting back down. "Edward is… sweet and sexy and fun. He's young and alive and… I like the person I am when I'm with him." I start to choke up, remembering the good times we had together, knowing that it's over. "You don't have to worry, though. I don't know what the hell Jasper said to Edward yesterday, but… he broke up with me last night. He says he's not good enough for me."

"He's not," she replies flatly.

"Why is it anyone else's job to determine that? _I_ am the only one whose opinion should matter. Did _you_ tell Jasper to say something to him?"

"Jasper and I share the same concerns over your well-being. No one threatened Edward into breaking up with you though, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't think you needed to threaten him. He was acting a bit… off Tuesday night. I don't think he was planning it then, but I doubt it would've taken much prodding to push him over the edge."

"It's for the best, Bella," Alice says gently. "Ok, you had a little fun with him, but he's not marriage material. You can't possibly believe that he _is_."

"I don't know what I believed," I reply sadly, "But I was happy, Alice. I only wish my friends could've been happy _for_ me."

* * *

Life slowly goes back to my pre-Edward version of normal over the next several weeks. I can't avoid Ang and Jess forever, so I eventually tell them over lunch that Edward and I split up. They try to contain their glee. Of course I can't tell them the real reason, and I begged Alice to keep it to herself. The whole story is no one else's business — and could get Edward in real trouble.

Missing Edward doesn't get any easier as the days fly by. While I'm not going to… cheapen myself by begging him to reconsider, I'm tempted to drop by Eclipse one night just to see him. I don't want to feel like a stalker though. I also don't want to see him flirting with any of the cougars at the bar — or worse, a younger woman.

I try to tell myself it was just a fling, no big deal. I need to pull myself up and move on. We were only together for a few weeks, after all.

A few weeks that changed me completely.

Finally in mid-June, I give in to Angela's begging and accept a blind date with her husband's coworker, determined to put my relationship with Edward behind me once and for all.

We make a date to meet at a Japanese restaurant near my home on Saturday night. Paul's text says he's seated at the bar and is wearing a red tie. Walking inside wearing my favorite little black dress, I make my way toward the bar, trying to slyly check out the men sitting there.

My heart falls a little when I see the middle-aged man with glasses wearing a red tie, his hairline already receding by several inches. "Paul?" I question.

He turns around, his eyes lighting up. "Isabella?" he says with a smile, standing from his chair.

"Just Bella," I correct with a shy smile. I try to keep my eyes on his face, which isn't bad looking, but I can't help but notice his belly hanging over the top of his black dress slacks.

I'm gonna kill Angela.

"Wow, you look beautiful!" Paul exclaims. "Should we get a table?"

"Sure," I nod, following him to the hostess stand. He seems friendly enough, thankfully; hopefully I'll have a pleasant evening.

"So how do you know Ben?" he asks, once we've been seated.

"Oh, I've worked with his wife, Angela, for over 10 years now. I'm a financial planner and stockbroker. What is it that you do?"

"I head up the IT department," he replies.

Paul and I continue to chat over our meals. He truly is a nice guy, and maybe in the past I would've accepted another date with him. But now, after being with a man as hot as Edward? I'm not normally so shallow, but I can't imagine ever wanting to have sex with this man. Maybe he could become a good friend though.

Just as Paul asks our waitress for the check, I hear my phone ringing in my purse. "I'm sorry," I apologize, pulling it out with the intention of ignoring the call.

Until I see Edward's name on the screen.

* * *

 **A/N:** Is this less of a bummer to leave us on before Christmas? Sorry to those who wanted Bella to chase after him. Instead, she tried to move on with her life, even accepting a blind date who turned out to pale in comparison to Edward.

Now what does Edward want? Should she answer the call? Should she kill Angela? Or Alice and Jasper?

Did Jasper breach ethical confidentiality guidelines by telling Alice? Probably, unless he could sneak it in under one of the exceptions, due to concern for Bella's well-being. It's not the same as attorney-client privilege, which only applies to testifying in court. Alice is correct that anything Bella told Jasper isn't privileged, but it does fall under confidentiality guidelines. More info at this link, if you're interested.

americanbar dot org /content/dam/aba/administrative/professional_responsibility/confidentiality_or_attorney. authcheckdam. pdf

* * *

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! The next chapter will post over the weekend. Is Saturday ok for everyone, or is Sunday better?

It's impossible to guess the next title without knowing what's going to happen. I can test your 80s music trivia knowledge though. Two versions of this song were hits in the 80s, both by the same band.


	32. Send Me an Angel

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Sometime on Wednesday when I wasn't paying attention we passed _Reason for Living_ in reviews!

Lots of ranty reviews last time, with much anger directed at Alice, Jasper and Angela.

No one guessed this chapter title. Several did choose songs that either correctly answered the trivia question, or came close to answering it correctly. Whitesnake's _Here I Go Again_ was the most popular guess, and wouldn't actually have been a bad title for this one! Real Life's hit new wave song from late 1983, which was re-recorded in 1989, was my choice though.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters. Rain makes me sleepy, sorry this is late!

* * *

 _Chapter 32: Send Me an Angel_

I don't even think before accepting the call and bringing the phone to my ear. "Edward?" I question.

"Bell-la," he answers, slurring the word. " _My beautiful Bella._ "

"Are you drunk?" I ask in shock.

" _Nooooo… no no no. Never touch that shit._ "

"You sound weird. Are you—" I stop, remembering that Paul is seated across the table. Not even bothering to excuse myself, I stand up, moving quickly to the hallway leading to the restrooms, since it's closer than the entrance. "Are you high?"

" _It's my birthday,_ " he slurs. " _Miss you._ "

I pull the phone away from my ear from a moment, letting out a long sigh. "Edward, did you take something? Did you take any drugs?" I clarify.

" _Jus' one little bitty pill._ "

 _Jesus Christ._ He must be moving, because suddenly I hear loud music in the background. "Edward, where are you?"

" _Out._ "

"Out _where_?"

" _Out with friends._ "

I feel like knocking my head into the wall, trying to get a straight answer out of him. "Where are you, Edward? Are you at a bar or club?"

" _I don't… feel so good,_ " he mumbles.

"Edward, where are you?" I ask again, my teeth clenched. I'm trying not to yell at him and attract attention; I doubt it would do any good anyway. "What's the name of the club?"

" _Break-breaking Dawn,_ " he answers. " _I feel funny… I…_ " He gasps and a chill goes through me. I think something is actually wrong with him.

"Edward?" No reply, and the music on the line is muffled. "Edward!" I try again.

 _Fuck._ He's not answering, and I wonder if he's passed out or something. I make a snap decision to end the call. Bringing up the Maps app on my iPhone, I search for Breaking Dawn, relieved to see that it's on the south end of Bellevue, not all that far from here.

I quickly head back to the table, and Paul stands up as I approach. "Is everything ok, Bella?" he asks with concern.

Grabbing my purse from the floor, I pull out my wallet. "A friend had an emergency; I'm sorry, I need to leave." I set enough money to cover my share of the bill on the table. "I'm sorry," I apologize again, rushing for the exit.

I can be at the club in ten minutes, but Edward could be in serious trouble. Maybe I'm overreacting, but better safe than sorry. I dial 9-1-1 as I get in my car, telling the dispatcher that my friend is at Breaking Dawn and seems to have passed out.

Once I've ended that call, I switch back to the Maps app, letting it direct me to the club. As I pull into the parking lot, I see the flashing lights from an ambulance and a police car by the door. I park as quickly as I can, then rush toward the door, running straight into the bouncer.

"My friend," I pant. "He passed out. The ambulance is for him. I need to get in there."

He eyes me skeptically, but steps aside, letting me through. I'm sure I don't look like their usual patron. Inside the dark club, I look around for a paramedic, but I can't see anything through the throng of young people. I walk along the perimeter of the club, finally spotting them near a back exit.

"Oh God," I mumble when I see two men kneeling on the floor beside a prone body. I push my way up to them, calling his name.

"Ma'am, you need to step back," a policeman says.

"He's my friend," I reply frantically. "I'm the one who called you. I was on the phone with him when he passed out."

"What can you tell us?" one of the paramedics asks.

"Not-not much. He was slurring his words. He-he said he took one pill, and then he said he wasn't feeling well."

"Let's get him on the gurney." I watch as the two paramedics lift Edward off the floor, wondering where his so-called friends are. They probably scattered when the cops showed up, especially if they had drugs on them.

"Here's his phone," the cop says, handing it to me. "It was in his hand. I found his wallet in his back pocket. Looks like he celebrated a bit too much for his birthday."

"Ma'am," the paramedic begins, "We're taking him to Overlake, if you want to follow us."

"Thank you," I nod. "I'll be right behind you." The cop starts heading for the exit, making a path through the crowd for the paramedics. I trail behind them, then rush for my car as soon as we're outside.

I try to drive within the speed limit, knowing there's really nothing I can do for Edward anyway. Oh God, what was he thinking, taking drugs again? Has this been going on for a while and I just missed it? Or has it only been since our break-up?

Part of my mind is whispering that Edward isn't my responsibility — we broke up. Or rather, _he_ broke up with _me_. I haven't stopped caring about him in the last five weeks though.

Arriving at Overlake Hospital, I park then head straight for the Emergency Room. "Excuse me, I'm looking for a young man who was just brought in by ambulance — Edward Masen."

The woman behind the desk checks something on her computer, then looks back up at me. "I'm sorry, I don't have anyone by that name, though he may not be registered yet. Please take a seat and I'll let you know if I hear something."

"Thank you," I reply, giving her a small smile. I find a seat in the waiting area, nervously drumming my fingers on my thigh. I doubt anyone has called Edward's parents. I would do it, but I don't have their number and I don't know the passcode for his phone. I pull out my own phone to try to find a listing for "Cullen" on Mercer Island, but come up empty; it must be an unlisted number.

"Ma'am?" I hear the woman calling me about 15 minutes later, then hurriedly stand and walk up to the desk. "Edward Masen in in Exam 2," she continues. "Are you a relative?"

"No, I-I'm just a friend." Shit, I know that means they're probably not going to be able to tell me anything.

"What is your name?"

"Um, Bella… Isabella Swan."

She nods, jotting my name on a post-it. "If your friend asks for you, I'll let you know."

"Thank you," I reply, frowning as I return to my seat to wait.

Time seems to tick by at a snail's pace. What feels like hours, but is probably about half an hour later, a cop walks through the waiting area. I see him speaking to the woman at the desk, and then he turns to look when she points toward me. _Shit._

"Ma'am, could I speak with you?"

"Um, sure," I reply nervously. "Is this about Edward?"

"Yes," he nods, taking the seat beside me. "What can you tell me about tonight?"

I relay what I know, and he nods thoughtfully. "So he said he took only one pill… probably not an overdose then. Do you know if he's done drugs before?"

I bite my lip before deciding to just be honest with him. "Edward had a drug problem when he was younger, but he went to rehab four years ago and had been clean ever since."

His brow furrows. "Do you know what triggered tonight's relapse?"

Honestly, I don't know for sure, though I have some suspicions. "I-I'm not sure," I finally answer. "I haven't spoken to Edward in several weeks."

"Do you know how to reach his parents?"

"I'm sorry, I don't," I frown. "I tried to find their number but came up empty. They live somewhere on Mercer Island. Um, their names are Dr. Carlisle Cullen and Esme Cullen."

"Cullen?" he asks, eyebrow raised.

"His mother remarried," I clarify. "Um, I don't know where his stepfather works. Maybe this hospital?"

"I'll check… thank you for your time." He stands up and I go back to playing with my phone while I wait for word, hoping I did the right thing — and praying that Edward will be ok.

It's nearly midnight when I see Edward's parents rush through the door. Esme stops short when she notices me, then hurries over to me. "Bella?" she says breathlessly.

"Hi, Mrs. Cullen," I greet her. "Edward is in Exam 2, but they won't let me go back or tell me anything since I'm not a relative."

"Thank you." She and her husband hurry off down the hall. I put my phone away, watching the hallway expectantly, in case she comes back with any news on Edward's condition.

About five minutes later, she reappears in the waiting area.

* * *

 **A/N:** All those who asked for this one before Christmas really didn't want it! I totally didn't plan out the timing of these chapters when I started posting back in October.

Go ahead, give me your thoughts! Edward has clearly gone and done something stupid during their separation… though not quite as stupid as "attempted suicide by Volturi."

Next update on **Monday**. The title is by a ubiquitous 80s artist. Many song titles include the same key word, so if you get one of those, you can have the teaser. I can think of three right off the top of my head that also satisfy the hint.


	33. Like a Prayer

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Edward got called many, many names in my reviews to the last chapter, which wasn't unexpected. I especially liked this line: "being a guy doing something stupid just comes naturally."

Congrats to **Bevey99** , **EAMCSquared** and **CAngell** for correctly guessing the chapter title! Honorable mention to **Payton79** and **LaPumuckl** , who guessed as well, after a few tries!

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 33: Like a Prayer_

"Esme?" I question anxiously, as she walks over toward me. "Did they let you see Edward? How is he?"

"He's… they're trying to stabilize him, though the immediate crisis seems to have passed," she says. I can't help noticing the tear tracks running down her cheeks, as she sits heavily beside me. "I have no idea what he thought he was doing," she continues. "He worked so hard to get clean."

"Did the doctors tell you anything?" I ask.

"They think that whatever he took was impure, or tainted. It caused his heart rate and blood pressure to skyrocket. They're trying to stabilize his vitals now. Why would he _do_ this, Bella?" she asks desperately, her head in her hands.

"Um… do you know that Edward broke up with me?" From the way she whips her head around to stare at me, I'd guess that's a no. "The day the charges were dropped," I continue. "He had some misguided sense that he was doing the right thing — that he'd only end up hurting me if we stayed together."

"I had no idea. He led me to believe that you two were still seeing each other."

"It wasn't what I wanted," I assure her. "But I could see his mind was made up."

"The policeman who called me said that you spoke to Edward tonight?"

"Yes," I nod. "He called me and I could tell something was wrong from the way he was slurring his words. And then he went quiet, and I called the ambulance."

"Thank you, Bella," she says fervently, taking my hands in hers. "You may have saved his life."

I smile, nodding at her. "Where is your husband?"

"Carlisle works at Harborview, but he knows one of the doctors treating Edward, so they let him stay. He promised to let me know if anything changes."

The night passes with many cups of borderline-disgusting coffee and visits from Dr. Cullen to let us know that Edward is stable, but still unconscious. He's transferred to his own room around 2am, and Esme is allowed in to see him for a few minutes, though it's well past visiting hours.

Part of me feels like I should just go on home now that he's stable — Edward may not even want to see me when he wakes up. I can't though. I still care about him, and I want to be here if he asks for me.

Just past seven o'clock, Carlisle comes out along with another doctor who introduces himself as Dr. Gerandy. He says he has good news for us, and Esme invites me to join them in a private room for their discussion.

"First and foremost, Edward is awake and talking," the doctor begins. "He's a little tired and weak right now, but I think he's going to be just fine."

"Oh thank God," Esme exclaims, clasping her hands together in prayer. I say a silent prayer of my own — though now that I know he's going to be ok, I'm pissed at him for doing something so _stupid_ , no matter the reason.

"I want to keep him on an IV and continue to monitor him for the next several hours, but we should be able to release him by late this afternoon. Now, I know that Edward has been to rehab in the past. He insists that his slip last night was a one-time thing, but I'd urge you to set up counseling for him or Narcotics Anonymous meetings, just in case. Someone from the hospital should be by to talk to him later, before he goes home."

"Absolutely," Esme agrees.

"You can go back and see him now, if you'd like."

I remain in my place as Esme turns to leave with Carlisle. Reaching the door, she stops and looks back at me. "You can come along, Bella, after you waited all night."

Giving her a small smile, I follow them out, happy to be included.

"Oh Edward," Esme cries as soon as she steps into his room. She rushes toward the bed, throwing her arms around him in a hug. Carlisle is right behind her, his hand on her back.

"I'm ok, Mom," he says weakly. I'm a bit stunned by the sight of him. He's sitting propped up with pillows, and his figure under the blankets seems thinner than I remember. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and his skin is flushed. An IV needle is taped to his left arm.

"Edward Anthony Masen, you are grounded until you're 40."

"You can't ground me," he chuckles lightly.

"What in God's name were you _thinking_?" She moves back, sitting on the edge of his bed, and I see Edward's eyes widen as he finally notices me standing by the door.

"Bella," he breathes.

Esme motions for me to come closer, so I move to Edward's other side, sitting on the hard plastic chair and taking his hand in mine. His skin feels so warm to the touch.

"Bella called the ambulance when you passed out while on the phone with her. She may have saved your life," Esme explains.

"Thank you," he whispers, barely audible.

"Now tell me what in the hell you were doing taking drugs after you worked so hard to get clean. How could you have done something so… stupid and reckless?"

His face seems to turn even more pink and he stares at his lap, his fingers playing idly with the edge of the blanket.

"Edward," Carlisle prompts.

"It was my birthday," he whispers. "I was tired of feeling like shit. I just wanted to feel good, just for one night. Jared suggested that we go out to the club and someone there had some drugs. I just wanted to feel good."

"Jared?" Esme questions. "I didn't think you were in contact with any of your old friends."

"I… ran into him at work," he replies almost evasively.

She shakes her head. "That kid was always bad news. You could have _died_ , Edward. Apparently whatever you took was impure and you had a bad reaction to some of the ingredients."

"I'm sorry!" he yells. "I can't do anything right."

I squeeze his hand, rubbing my thumb across the back of it. "What was so bad that you needed to take drugs to try and feel better?" I ask.

"Don't you know?" he cries.

I stare back at him for a long moment before it hits me. "Because of me?"

"No! This isn't your fault. It's all mine."

Carlisle says something to Esme and she nods, standing up. "Why don't you talk to Bella alone for a few minutes? We'll just go down and get breakfast."

Once they've gone, Edward stubbornly stares down at his lap. "Look at me, Edward," I order him softly.

I'm shocked by the pain in his blue-green eyes when he finally does it. "I miss you," he whispers, and my heart does a little flip. He hurt me when he didn't have enough faith in us, but it seems it was even worse for him.

"You wanted to break up," I remind him.

"I never wanted that!" he cries, shaking his head. "But I had to do it before you got hurt… because of your relationship with me."

"So instead we both ended up hurting and miserable?"

"You were miserable?" he whispers. "When you couldn't say you loved me back, I… I figured you'd get over it quickly — that I was a just a distraction for you."

"Oh Edward…" I sigh. I was afraidI'd hurt him when I couldn't return the sentiment. "That didn't mean I was going to bounce right back. But you, you ended up nearly _dying_ in your quest to not be so miserable."

"I fucked up, ok? I fucked up. I'm sorry!" He closes his eyes, his breaths picking up.

Edward always seems so confident, so full of life. Obviously I know that wasn't always the case, but nevertheless, it's a shock to see him so vulnerable.

So I don't think, I just act, moving to sit on the edge of the hospital bed and throwing my arms around him. He hugs me back just as tightly, clinging to me. Any residual anger I had toward him for listening to whatever the hell Jasper said to him — and for doing something so idiotic as taking drugs again — evaporated the minute I saw him lying in this bed. Now, I just want to see his smile again.

When I finally manage to pull away, I kiss his forehead, then move back until I can look him in the eyes. Before I can speak, his brow furrows as he looks me up and down. "What are you wearing?" he rasps. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Um, I was… I was on a date," I admit.

"Oh," he frowns. "I suppose I deserve that."

"A blind date, set up by Angela. One of her husband's coworkers," I babble.

"Are you gonna see him again?"

"I doubt he'll want to see _me_ , given the way I rushed out before the end of our date. But no, I wouldn't even if he asks. You've ruined me for other men," I tell him — not quite joking. I get a small smile in return.

Part of me wants to just ask him to change his decision and give us another chance. Another part feels like I should make him work for it, but… _why_ when we're _both_ unhappy with the status quo? Yet another part worries that we'll be in for more heartache if he still isn't strong enough to withstand outside pressures on our relationship.

"Tell me what you want." I reach up to cup his cheek in my hand.

"I want _you_ , but—" I place a finger over his lips, shaking my head.

"No buts, Edward. The only thing stopping us from being together is you."

"But what if—" I cut him off again.

"I'm a big girl, so why don't you let me worry about myself, ok? I can make my own decisions."

"You'd really still want me after the way I fucked up?"

I let out a breath. "I agree with your doctor that you need to start seeing a therapist or something. You can't fall back into old habits when things get tough. But Edward, I've missed you so much! It's like the light is missing from my life. You made me feel so young and alive."

"It's been awful without you," he whispers. "I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"Then don't. Fight for us."

"You make it sound so simple," he replies, shaking his head.

"It is," I retort. "Just ask me."

His eyes widen before he grins. "Bella, would you give me another chance? Please?"

"Yes," I reply, leaning forward to kiss him gently.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, Bella's decided that after almost losing him, it's not worth it to stay apart just to punish him. Agree or disagree?

Many of you are pretty hard on Edward, and he deserves it, no doubt. But as a survivor of child abuse, he doesn't always react well, especially to negativity, the way most adults would. Esme isn't going to let him get away with avoiding the therapy suggested by the doctor.

Those who got the teaser laughed at Esme for "grounding" him, but given their past physical abuse, I don't think she'd threaten to wring his neck, even jokingly. Any other good threats you can think of for a grown man?

Next update on **Wednesday**. The title is taken from a song that features guest vocals by a singer whose career was about 20 years earlier. How is that for trivia? I can't think of a better hint.


	34. Take Me Home Tonight

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! I love seeing how passionate some of you are about this story and the characters.

Most of you are in agreement with Bella, that making Edward work for her forgiveness helps no one.

This chapter's title was apparently an easy one, with 13 correct responses: **MIRosebud** , **SarcasticBimbo** , **sherylb** , **war123** , **EAMCSquared** , **SparkleSwan** , **blue022** , **edwardisaputz** , **miranda04** , **BonTempsFan** , **umbrellacharm** , **astonmartin823** , and **Rhonda** (guest),

1960s singer Ronnie Spector (from the Ronettes) was a guest singer on Eddie Money's 1986 hit.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 34: Take Me Home Tonight_

Before our tender kiss can go anywhere fun, the door opens and Edward's parents walk in. Esme smiles when she sees our positions.

"Bella, I brought you some coffee and a cinnamon roll. I hope that's ok?"

"Thank you." I get up to take both items from her.

"Edward," she begins, sounding a bit nervous, "There's a cop outside who wants to talk to you."

"Ok," he whispers. _Oh God_ , the last thing he needs is more legal trouble.

"We'll have to wait outside," Carlisle states, holding the door for us to walk through. The cop that spoke with me last night steps into Edward's room as we leave it.

We find seats in a waiting room down the hall, and I pour the cream and sugar into my unfortunately-not-Starbucks coffee.

"So… you two are back together?" Esme asks.

"Yes," I nod, unable to help my smile.

"Good, I'm glad," she nods.

"Are you? I mean, no offense, but… your reaction and questions to me likely contributed to Edward's decision to end things."

Esme smiles sheepishly. "I admit that I was surprised by your age. Edward had never brought a girlfriend home for me to meet before, so I had no idea what type of woman he was attracted to. You're not what I expected, but that doesn't mean I disapprove. Carlisle is 14 years older than I am, so I'd be quite the hypocrite if I did.

"Edward is… special," she continues. "He's always been a sweet, sensitive boy who wears his heart on his sleeve. My ex-husband really did a number on his self-confidence, and he turned to drugs to escape. The man who came back from California six months ago was so different from the boy we dropped off at rehab. He'd become what I always knew he could be. I haven't seen Edward much in the past several weeks, and certainly not enough to realize he was struggling. If being with you is good for him, then I'm all for it."

"Thank you," I smile. "I think being with him is good for me, too."

We wait for at least an hour while the cop is in talking with Edward. Once he's done, the doctor checks on him again, and then we're allowed back into his room.

"Did everything go all right?" his mother asks, while I retake the chair next to the bed. Edward motions for me to come closer, so I hurriedly get up to sit beside him.

"I need to touch you," he whispers to me, taking my hand, before addressing the three of us. "I'm not in trouble. I didn't know the name of the guy I bought from, so I had to describe him. I don't want to be a narc, but… he promised they won't bring him in unless they catch him actually in the act of selling."

Edward is exhausted from the police interview, so we stay with him while he takes a little nap. When a nurse brings his lunch, he says we can go get our own food, but Esme agrees with me that he looks too thin and wants to stay to make sure he eats.

Once we've finally made it to the hospital cafeteria, I choose just a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. My stomach has felt a little funny ever since that decadent cinnamon roll this morning; I don't normally eat something so heavy in the mornings. Or maybe it was all that non-Starbucks coffee.

We spend a little more time with Edward after lunch, before a counselor comes to speak with him. He rolls his eyes a bit as if he doesn't need to talk to anyone, but he's not going to win this battle. Once the counselor pronounces him fit for release, we wait for his discharge papers to be processed.

"You're coming home with us, Edward," his mother says.

"What? I'm 24 — I'm too old to live at home."

"I'm not letting you stay alone where you could get into trouble again."

"I'll be fine, Mom. Really."

"Maybe you should listen to your mother," I tell him gently, and he gives me a look of betrayal.

"Can I stay with you?" he asks, giving me his best pouty face. "Would that be ok, Mom?"

"If… Bella's ok with it…" She looks over at me expectantly.

"What would you do all day while I'm at work?" I ask, my heartbeat picking up. Edward and I have only been back together for a few hours. It's way too soon for him to be _living with_ me.

"The same thing I'd do at home. Maybe I'll learn to cook for you or something," he shrugs. "And apparently you guys want me to start talking to someone."

"I guess… we can try," I agree — for now. I'm rewarded with a beautiful, genuine smile.

A nurse comes in to show us where they've stored Edward's clothes from last night, and we step outside so he can get dressed.

"Are you sure about this, Bella?" Esme asks once we're out of Edward's earshot. "I don't mind dragging him home kicking and screaming."

"It's fine," I assure her. I'm sure staying with me temporarily is less humiliating for him than moving back home so his _mom_ can babysit.

Once we've got the discharge papers, a nurse brings in a wheelchair to take Edward outside, though he complains that he's perfectly able to walk. I head outside ahead of the rest of group to bring my car up to the door. Both Esme and Carlisle hug their son goodbye before helping him into the car.

"So… I guess I should stop by your place so you can get your things," I suggest, once Edward is settled in the passenger seat.

"I could stay naked all the time," he replies with a smirk, and I shake my head. He's going to be fine.

When we arrive at his condo, Edward orders a pizza from a local pizza place, claiming it's far better than any of the chains, then gets to work packing some clothes and toiletries while we wait for the delivery. I offer to help him pack, but he says he's fine. It turns out he was right about the pizza, as it's delicious. I'm pleased to see that he seems to have his appetite back, as well.

A half hour later, Edward carries his bags upstairs at my house, and I'm glad when he just sets up his suitcase on the window seat instead of asking for a drawer to put his clothes away. That just seems so premature; this is temporary.

Once he's finished with that, he walks over to me, wrapping me up tightly in his arms. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, "For everything."

I reach up, combing my fingers through his hair, until he finally pulls away. "I'm an idiot," he says bitterly.

"You're my idiot." He gives me a small smile, then plants a searing but chaste kiss on my lips before taking a step back.

"Ugh," I sigh, "I feel icky from spending the night in the waiting room. I think I'm gonna take a quick shower then check the Asian markets."

"I'll come with you," Edward says, following me into the bathroom. "What?" he asks when I glare at him. "I could use a shower, too."

"This is not a recreational shower." We have too much to talk about yet before we even think about having sex.

"Fine," he rolls his eyes. "I'm too tired, anyway."

I turn on the water in the shower, then fetch a couple of towels for us. As I undress, I try not to look at Edward's half-naked body, so he can't tempt me. I meant it about this being an all-business shower. I don't look at him until he steps into the stall behind me.

"You waxed!" I gasp.

"Yep," he shrugs, giving me a bit of a sheepish grin.

"Does this mean you're dancing again?"

"I'll explain when we're finished," he says, reaching for the body wash. I huff a little, but nod.

After our shower, I put on my pajamas, settling in on the bed next to Edward. "Ok, explain."

"Yes, I'm dancing again," he confirms. "I needed the money."

"You have a job though."

"Not anymore. I quit Eclipse about a week after… after I last saw you."

"Why?" I question, confused. He seemed to like his job at Eclipse.

"A woman came into the club, and… she looked an awful lot like my first… victim." I gasp quietly. "I managed to avoid her, and I don't know if it was actually her, but… I started to worry that the women I stole from were the type to frequent Eclipse. So I quit."

"Where are you dancing? You couldn't go back to New Moon, right?"

"No, especially not after learning you'd involved the police. I'm at a club down in Renton, where I danced after New Moon."

"But you said… you said your old drug dealers hung out at the other strip clubs."

He nods. "I didn't see any of them — maybe they're all in jail by now — but that's where I ran into Jared again."

"Edward, you have to quit!" I exclaim. For his own safety, besides the temptation.

"I won't take anything again, I promise. I can make as much money in a couple nights of dancing as a whole week bartending. It'll be perfect once I start school in three months."

"I don't like this, Edward," I shake my head. "Your mother would freak out if she knew."

"You can come watch me dance then. Babysit me," he winks. "I'll be fine, Bella," he says gently, taking my hands. "Now that I've got you back."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, Esme didn't trust Edward to stay at his condo alone, and he chose to stay with Bella rather than his mom (who wouldn't). Bella thinks it's just temporary, but…

At least one of you was afraid of this… Edward is dancing (stripping) again! My pre-readers were afraid that this is bad news. There was good news in this chapter, that Edward won't face drug charges.

Bella made sure Esme knew that her initial reaction to their meeting may have contributed to the break-up. Angela faces her wrath in the next chapter!

Last update for 2015! Happy New Year! See you in 2016 on **Friday**. The title is taken from a song that was from the very beginning of the 1980s.


	35. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Most of you agree that Edward stripping is bad news and say you'd never date a guy who worked as a stripper! Edward was ok stripping on weekends in California, so it's not stripping itself that's the issue, but rather the people he may run into at the Seattle clubs.

This chapter title was a tough one! Only **MIRosebud** correctly guessed Queen's #1 hit from February 1980. And **SarcasticBimbo** , once I gave her the hint that it was by the best male singer of all time. I suppose that only works if you agree with me about the late great Freddie Mercury. By far the most popular guess was John Lennon's _(Just Like) Starting Over_.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 35: Crazy Little Thing Called Love_

When my alarm goes off, I blindly try to reach out for it — but find that I can't move. Edward is completely wrapped around me, and Little Edward is the only part of him that's awake. I brush my hand lightly along his forearm until he whines, lifting his arm just enough for me to reach the alarm and shut it off.

"I forgot how fucking early you wake up," he mumbles, rolling onto his back.

"You can go back to sleep," I chuckle.

I swing my legs off the bed, heading into the bathroom for my morning routine, half expecting Edward to join me in the shower. He doesn't though, and I find him hugging my pillow adorably when I step out of the bathroom.

"Edward?" I whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead. By his moan, I think he can hear me. "I'll text you when I'm on my way home, ok?"

"'kay," he mumbles. Kissing his forehead, I head downstairs for my morning coffee.

As I sit at the island drinking it, my mind immediately wanders to the beautiful young man upstairs in my bed. Though he'd said he was tired, I was a bit surprised when he didn't try anything more than cuddling with me last night. It felt good to be in his arms again, to touch him again. I really missed Edward, and I'm not ashamed to admit I'm _happy_ to be back with him.

But I know we still have a lot to talk about. He apparently took our break-up much worse than I did, and I know that can't be healthy. I know he has issues he needs to talk about with someone, and I'm sure they all go back to the fact that he grew up in an abusive environment.

I'm hardly at my desk 10 minutes when Angela comes into my office, an expectant look on her face. "Come on, Swan, don't keep me in suspense — how did it go with Paul this weekend?" she asks.

I glare back at her. "Have you _met_ Paul?"

"Sure, we had him over for dinner shortly after he started working with Ben. Why?"

"And you thought that he was a potential match for me?" I ask sarcastically.

"Well, _yeah_. He's a nice guy, successful… in your age group."

I grit my teeth. "And you thought I'd be physically attracted to him?"

"Since when is that your number one requirement?" Angela asks, sounding a bit bewildered. "Is this because of Edward? Now you'll only date guys as hot as he was?"

"No, I just—" I stop, squeezing my eyes closed in frustration. "It was just a large… step down, I guess. I-I realize there aren't many guys as hot as Edward."

"So you didn't even give him a chance?"

I shrug. "Paul seemed like a nice enough guy; maybe we could be friends, but that's it. From now on, I need you to stay out of my love life, Ang."

Angela purses her lips, looking like she wants to say more, but she remains silent. I suppose now would be the perfect time to tell her that Edward and I are back together, but I'd like to keep that to myself a little longer, at least until we have a chance to talk.

* * *

When I step into my kitchen from the garage, I'm immediately assaulted by an amazing smell. Before I can ask, Edward is in front of me, cradling my face as he kisses me breathless.

"I made you dinner," he says when he finally takes a step back. "You have five minutes to get changed."

"Yes, Sir," I mock salute him as I head upstairs.

When I come back down, I see a candle flickering in the center of the table. Edward pulls out my chair for me, acting like a waiter at a five-star restaurant.

"It smells delicious, but where did you find enough food to cook?" I chuckle as Edward takes his own seat. I didn't have a chance to go grocery shopping yesterday after we got home.

"I went shopping," he replies. "I was watching a cooking show on the Food Network and decided to try and replicate one of the dishes they were making." He seems to blush a little and I smile at him.

"Is that all you did today?" I ask curiously.

"I, um, looked online for nearby NA meetings," he replies quietly. "There's one close to here that usually meets on Wednesday afternoons, so…" He trails off, shrugging, and I reach over to squeeze his hand.

"I think that's a good idea," I tell him gently.

After dinner, I steer Edward into the living room so that we can talk. He looks nervous and vulnerable, and I hate seeing him like that. I want _my_ Edward back.

Slowly, I reach out, trailing my fingers over his cheek. "You know we need to talk about what happened," I begin quietly. "Why you felt the need to go back to drugs."

"It was just once," he protests, looking at me imploringly.

"I know that, but… I feel a little bit guilty that our break-up led you back to drugs."

"No! It's not your fault, Bella. It's all mine. I'm the one who ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me. I'm the one who ended things. It's always my fault."

I look at him questioningly. "What do you mean by that, Edward? _Always_ your fault."

He stares down at his lap, then finally looks up as he takes my hands in his own. "When… when I told you that I hadn't dated anyone special since I got out of rehab, I wasn't being 100% truthful," he confesses quietly. "There was a girl about a year after — her name was Jane. We didn't date all that long, but… I really liked her at the time."

"What happened?" I ask curiously, trying to keep my jealousy at bay. I'm also a little bit annoyed that he wasn't completely honest, though I suppose I can understand why he didn't consider this Jane to be "special" if their relationship was truly short.

"Jane noticed that I didn't drink when we went out, and she asked me about it. I told her the truth — about my dad being an alcoholic and how I'd gone to rehab for drug use. She broke up with me the next day."

"Oh Edward…" I pull my right hand out of his so that I can caress his face.

"I didn't really try to date after that. I was afraid of the same thing happening over and over again, that no one would ever want me. But you… you know everything — even all of the horrible things I did — yet you're still willing to be with me.

"I don't think you realize how special that makes you, Bella," he says, staring into my eyes. "That-that you could see past what I did to you and all of those women. That you didn't look at me as a useless drug addict. You saw _me_ , more than anyone else ever has. And I ruined it by walking away from you."

"You could've come back any time and I would've taken you back. I missed you so much, Edward."

"I missed you too," he whispers, leaning forward to kiss me gently. "Are you really sure you want to deal with my shit? And all the shit you'll get from everyone else for being with me?"

"You're worth it," I tell him honestly. I kiss him back, and before I know it, I'm flat on my back on the couch and Edward is hovering over me.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, brushing his lips against mine. "Please forgive me for being a dumb ass."

I smile involuntarily. "I forgive you." He kisses me again, letting his fingers move down between my breasts. _God_ , I missed his touch.

"You're so beautiful. I've missed _all_ of you," he growls, licking and sucking along my neck. His hand moves up beneath my t-shirt and he gently traces along the bottom edge of my bra.

"Not here," I manage between kisses.

In a flash he's on his feet, pulling me up off the couch. "Race you," he grins, dashing for the stairs.

Shaking my head, I decide to just let him win, instead walking at a more normal human pace. My heart is pounding with anticipation… and desire. By the time I make it to my bedroom, Edward is completely naked and sprawled across the middle of my bed.

"Eager, are we?" I tease. _God_ , he's a vision.

"Get over here _now_ , or I'm taking you against the door." My whole body flushes from the neediness in his words. Removing my clothes, I cross the room. I grab the box of condoms from the drawer of my nightstand, handing one to Edward as I lie beside him.

He pulls me close to kiss me, then rolls on top of me. I hurriedly wrap my arms around him, just needing to feel his skin against mine. One of his hands trails down my torso until he's stroking softly between my legs.

"You'd better be ready for me," he whispers. "Because I'm not gonna be gentle."

"Good."

Edward's eyes light up at my response and he rushes to tear open the condom packet and roll it down his length. He joins us together in one thrust, and I scream out as I throw my head back.

"Fuuuuccckkk," he groans, tugging at my legs until I wrap them around his waist.

Sex between us has always been intense, but never quite like it is this time. Between his heavy breaths and pants, Edward drops searing kisses onto my eager lips. His hands pull and tug at my sensitive nipples, while his cock drives me to the brink of an orgasm in no time.

"Oh God… Edward," I cry out when it hits. He quickly follows me over the edge, collapsing on top of me with his face buried in my neck.

Slowly I bring my hand up, stroking it through his hair. "I love you, Bella," he whispers, then places a soft kiss on the side of my mouth.

I continue to stroke his hair as panic seizes me. Those words again. I haven't told a man I love him since Jacob — seven years ago. But then I remember the terror I felt Saturday night when I saw Edward lying unconscious on the floor in that club. I remember the agonizing wait for news of his condition.

And I know.

"I love you too, Edward."

Lifting his head, he stares into my eyes, as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "I love you too," I repeat, and his resulting smile is blinding. When he kisses me again, I feel every ounce of love, and for the first time, I truly believe he and I can work.

"Mmm…" he groans. "Need to toss the condom." I shamelessly watch his ass as he walks to the bathroom, then shamelessly watch the front view as he comes back to me.

"I hope you didn't have plans for tonight," he warns as he resumes his position on top of me, "Because I'm not letting you leave this bed until morning. Maybe never again."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, Bella told Angela to stay out of her love life, but you guys probably wanted to see a girl fight lol.

The big news of course is that Bella finally returned Edward's declaration of love!

Poor Edward, he felt even worse about their break-up knowing that he caused it. It's left unstated, but I'm sure he was told it was his fault often enough when his father was beating him. He took a first step toward getting better by finding a nearby NA meeting.

Happy New Year! **Sunday** 's chapter will include Edward's performance at the strip club, so that should send you in the right direction for the title. The song is by an act that most think of as a one-hit wonder, though they did have another Top 20 song (in the US) five years later. I could've used a ton of different songs, I'm sure, so this will be another tough one.


	36. The Safety Dance

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

I think we're all almost universally happy that Bella finally told Edward she loves him! And wish that Bella had been a bit more blunt with Angela.

This chapter title was another tough one! Only **sherylb** correctly guessed it, once I gave her the hint that it included some form of the word "dance." I picked this song because Bella is trying to keep Edward safe… lame, I know.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 36: The Safety Dance_

Whether Edward approves or not, I do have to leave my bed and go to work for the rest of the week. He seems to be doing ok while I'm away, busying himself by working out, running, watching cooking shows and having lunch with his mom a couple of times. He attends the Narcotics Anonymous meeting on Wednesday, though I don't get much out of him about how it went, and even agrees to call one of the names the counselor at the hospital gave him and set up an appointment.

Between how busy I am at work all day, with the end of the quarter coming up next week, and with my insatiable boyfriend — who seems to be trying to make up for lost time — every evening, I'm exhausted by Friday and would like nothing more than a relaxing evening at home.

Only I can't do that. I've continued to try to talk Edward out of dancing — without explicitly telling him not to do it — but he insists he'll be fine. I'm still not so sure about that, so after work on Friday, I let him pick out what he considers an appropriate outfit for me — a rather low cut blouse and a nearly 20-year-old denim skirt — and then drive him to the strip club.

We walk toward the entrance hand in hand, and I'm pleased to see that it doesn't appear to be as sleazy as I'd pictured in my mind. No worse than New Moon, anyway.

Edward gets me past the bouncer with no cover charge, and as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I look around at the interior of the club. It has a stage on one end, similar to the set-up of New Moon.

"You want to come back to the dressing room with me?"

"I'd rather not. You're the only man I want to see naked." Smirking, he leans down to kiss me briefly. "And by the way, you're not getting any tonight if you dare to bring me on that stage — or otherwise involve me in the show."

"Bella," he whines.

"No."

"Fine," he acquiesces with a sigh. "You can get a drink if you want. I'll drive us home if you can't."

After he's dashed off to get changed, I find a seat along the edge of the room, deciding to go ahead and order a Cosmopolitan so I look a bit less out of place here by myself.

When five men take the stage wearing masks and dressed like superheroes, it doesn't take me long to determine that Batman is Edward — I'd know that ass anywhere.

He loses his cape first, and then the rest of his costume seems to come apart piece by piece. By the end of the second song, he's in nothing but a black g-string — and his mask.

I love watching Edward dance, seeing the way he feels the music and how at home he seems on stage. Though they're all good, he's clearly the most talented dancer of the five. If only he could find a way to dance fully clothed as a career.

At some point, the guys move to the front of the stage, allowing the screaming women in the audience to tuck dollar bills into their g-strings. I grit my teeth, watching as they take their sweet time adding the money to Edward's, letting their hands linger just a bit too long to be unintentional.

It only gets worse from there as they seem to use any excuse to touch him. The young bride-to-be, who sits in a chair on the stage in her sexy veil while all five men give her lap dances, seems especially taken with Edward. My jealousy grows watching her hand touch his ass when he turns around.

I remember when it was me in that position, and I know she's not really doing anything I haven't done myself — but that doesn't help with my jealousy. I've never watched Edward dance before when I could call him mine.

I remind myself that this is Edward's _job_. I see the way he keeps stealing glances toward me out in the audience, yet I want to tear the hands off of every woman in the club who's touched _my_ man tonight; growing up as an only child, I don't like to share.

And then I scold myself for my possessiveness. I've never been the jealous type with my previous boyfriends. I've also never dated a man as desirable as Edward. I'm not sure coming down here to babysit him was such a good idea.

When the guys have finally finished, I'm seething with jealousy. I hurriedly try to finish my second drink, expecting Edward to come find me as soon as he's showered and dressed. At least he'd _better_.

"Guess who!" A pair of large hands covers my eyes and I instinctively turn around, following the sweaty, naked torso up to Edward's grinning face, now without his mask.

And then his grin slowly falls. "What's wrong?" he asks, brow furrowing. "You look ready to strangle someone."

"I want to strangle all of those women for practically molesting you!"

He rolls his eyes. "They pretty much have to touch me to stuff the bills into my g-string."

"But-but—"

Suddenly, the grin is back on his face — or rather a _smirk_. "Are you _jealous_ , Bella?"

"No!" I protest, but I'm lying through my teeth. "Yes! You're _my_ boyfriend and they had their hands all over you!"

"Holy fuck, you're hot when you're jealous," he breathes.

"This isn't funny!"

Edward tugs on my hand until I stand, then pulls me close. "I only have eyes for you, baby," he promises.

I start to speak, but then I smell him. "Coconut!"

"What? Oh," he chuckles. "Your favorite, huh?"

I lean in, sniffing at his chest, and my mind flashes back to the night we met — to how turned on I was as he danced just for me.

"Oh fuck, you're jealous and you're horny. Come on!"

Edward turns, pulling me with him toward a short hallway. I want to protest, say I am _not_ horny, but he'd totally know I'm lying. He knocks on a door, then pauses.

"I'm not going into the dressing room with you," I object.

Not paying any attention to my protests, he opens the door, then tugs me inside, and I see it's an office, not the dressing room. "Whose is this?"

"This is Victoria's office — my boss." He turns the lock on the door then stalks over toward me.

"Won't she get upset if she finds us in here?" I question.

He shrugs. "I saw her out by the bar. That just means we have to be quick."

"Quick for what?"

Smirking, he wraps one arm around my waist while his other hand sneaks underneath my skirt to yank my panties down. I cry out in shock, staring up at him. He wants to have sex in his boss's office?

"I can't wait until I get you home," he growls. "Turn around, Bella." He nods toward the desk but I'm frozen in place, my panties now around my ankles. God, a part of me wants to remind him who his girlfriend is, but the more rational part of me knows Victoria could come back in here at any moment.

"Do you need a little more enticement?" I hope that's a rhetorical question. Watching in stunned silence as he strips off his g-string, I swallow thickly when I see his cock is already rock hard. Edward grabs hold of my arms and turns me around, forcing my chest down onto the desk, then folds my skirt up to expose my bare ass.

"Fuck!" I cry out when he thrusts inside with little prelude.

"Better be quiet or Victoria will catch us." The smile is clear in his voice as he bends forward to lick my ear. "Hang on tight, baby."

I barely have time to obey before he starts to move — really move. I thought fucking me against my front door was wanton, but _this_ takes the cake, given the added danger of getting caught. I moan and cry out as his cock plunges inside again and again. He's big and he knows how to use it — a lethal combination.

Suddenly, Edward pulls out, lifts me off the desk and spins me around to face him. Before I can ask what he's doing, he's sitting me on the edge of the desk and thrusting back inside me.

"I want to watch you when you come on my cock," he says, looking down at where we're joined.

Breathing heavily, I follow his line of sight to the incredibly erotic sight of his cock sliding in and out of me. It takes me a minute to realize what's wrong — he's not wearing a condom.

"No c-condom," I pant.

"I'll pull out," he promises, bringing my legs up to encircle his waist.

"I'm… so… close." I reach out, holding on to his forearm as if it'll keep me anchored through the powerful climax I'm expecting.

"Tell me who's making you feel like this," he growls.

"You are! You're _mine_ , Edward Masen."

His eyes widen and then he takes my face in his hands, kissing me hard. I break away when I come, moaning as the most intense pleasure I've ever felt takes over my body. I barely notice him pull out, coming in spurts all over me.

* * *

 **A/N:** As expected, Bella did not like seeing other women touching her man. A few suggested the Georgia Satellites' _Keep Your Hands to Yourself_ as a good title for this one.

As at least one of my pre-readers pointed out, maybe Bella would've preferred if Edward _had_ involved her in the show, since at least he'd be dancing with her and not another woman!

Edward is definitely teaching her to let go, having sex in a public place… even if he did lock the door! He likes seeing Bella jealous, and Bella likes _him_ smelling like coconut.

I keep changing the title for Tuesday's chapter. Right now it's a 1986 #1 hit that has a well-known video. I still might change it again. I like all of the titles after that one though.


	37. Addicted to Love

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Many of you are unhappy that Edward continues to dance, despite the fact that Bella doesn't like it. I think he'd quit if she expressly asked him to, but she doesn't want to be his mom.

Lots of correct guesses to today's chapter title! You all must remember the popular music videos from 1986. Congrats to **meepison** , **emmjaebee** , **war123** , **EdwardsFirstKiss** , **twifan7731** , **sherylb** , **astonmartin823** , **Bugsmamawolf** , **That'sMzPeachesTYVM** , **Chartwilightmom** , **EAMCSquared** , **wambam45** , and **miranda04**.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 37: Addicted to Love_

Edward is breathing heavily, his forehead resting on my shoulder. It's as if we're under some sort of spell, afraid that one word spoken will ruin it. But we're not in my house, we're at the strip club, and Victoria could return to her office at any moment.

"Edward?" I whisper. He lifts his head, staring into my eyes. Finally, he kisses me softly then steps back, reaching down for his tiny underwear.

"I-I need to clean up." I twist around, looking to see if Victoria has a box of Kleenex or something, but I see nothing. My panties are still caught around my left foot, and I watch in shock as Edward pulls them off and uses them to wipe off the mess.

I scowl at him and he chuckles, helping me to my feet and tugging my skirt down. He kisses me again then stuffs my dirty panties into the pocket of my skirt. Taking my hand, he walks over to the door, unlocking it then opening it just a crack to peek out.

"Coast is clear," he announces, leading me out of the room. "I need to get dressed. Are you coming with me?"

"I'll just… go to the ladies room and meet you out here." Nodding, he kisses me once more, and I shamelessly watch his nearly naked ass as he heads down the hallway.

Really hoping that I'm not walking funny after our quickie, I go to find the bathrooms. Three women are waiting ahead of me in line for the two stalls. No one gives me a second glance, and I'm glad that I don't look out of place to their eyes. I try to comb my fingers through my hair, feeling like I must look as thoroughly fucked as I feel.

After I've finally made it to a stall, I overhear two women chatting amongst themselves. My ears perk up when one of them says, "Batman," and I realize they're talking about Edward. One of the women plans to go look for him, hoping she can take him home for the night. It's all I can do not to glare at her as I wash my hands.

By the time I've made it back to the office, Edward is already waiting for me. "What took you so long?" he asks with a grin.

"There was a line. You sure got ready fast."

He smiles at me, throwing his arm around my shoulders. "I figured I'd wait to shower at home since you like the way I smell."

Walking through the club together, I'm not oblivious to the stares from the patrons. I actually kinda hope the woman from the ladies room sees us together. Heading outside toward my car, I hit the unlock button on the keyfob then hand my keys to Edward to drive us home. I'm feeling a little shaky, but I think it's more from the hot sex than my two Cosmos.

As we wait at a stoplight, Edward looks over at me, smirks, then places his hand on my bare thigh.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" His hand starts creeping up under my skirt, and I'm acutely aware of the fact that I'm no longer wearing underwear.

"Drive! The light just went green. The faster you get us home…" I trail off at the look on his face. Earlier I'd wanted a quiet Friday night at home, but right now I just want Edward again.

The moment we're inside the house, he's on me — kissing me, groping me… all of that fun stuff we didn't have time for before our quickie at the club. But when he steers me toward the granite island and tries to bend me over it, I have to put the brakes on.

"Wait," I pant. "I cook and eat at that island!"

Edward laughs, gathering me into his arms. "You're cute when you're being a prude."

I want to be angry with him for teasing me, but my nose is inches away from his chest and he still smells absolutely amazing. "Is that body oil edible?"

"Oh hell," he groans. "Upstairs. Now!"

* * *

"I don't like this, Edward." I pace across my living room, trying to remain calm. Our first real fight, and of course it's over his dancing. Not at the club — no, he waits until an hour before he needs to leave to tell me that he's doing a private bachelorette party.

"Bella!" he shouts, stopping me in my tracks with his hands on my forearms. "Nothing is going to happen. Despite what you may have seen in the movies or whatever, dancers at bachelorette parties do not have sex with the entire bridal party." He closes his eyes for a moment, sighing. "Don't you trust me?"

"I trust _you_ — I just don't trust a bunch of drunk women with grabby hands when you have hardly any clothes on. And I still don't like that you only just now decided to tell me about this."

"I told you, I booked it weeks ago and thought it was next weekend until I checked the calendar on my phone."

"I wish you wouldn't do this," I complain. I know I'm not his mother; I can't _make_ him stay home, no matter how much I want to.

"It's good money, Bella. I don't want to feel like I'm sponging off of you. Come on, baby," he says, puling me into his arms. "I'll be back in just a few hours and you can have your way with me."

"You said you've done parties like this before?"

He nods. "In California. It's really not as bad as you're picturing."

I sigh heavily. "I don't like it, but… you're a big boy. And I do trust that you won't cheat on me."

"I won't," he promises. "You're the only woman I see." Bringing his hands up, he cups my cheeks and kisses me softly. "I love you. I'll text you when I head home, ok?"

Once Edward has left, I flop onto the couch, reaching for the remote to turn on the TV. I guess I've got the quiet night at home that I wanted _last_ night. I try not to think about what he's doing right now, dancing mostly naked and surrounded by a dozen drunk women.

Ugh… if I'm going to be with a guy as hot as Edward — a guy who once again makes a living taking his clothes off — I need to get my jealousy under control. It's just… I love him, more than I thought possible. And I don't want to lose him — not again.

When my phone beeps, I pick it up, grinning at the text from Edward.

 **Home in 10 min. Be naked. Xoxo – E**

How is a girl supposed to resist _that_? Heading upstairs, I turn down the bed, then decide to help move things along faster by getting a condom out of the box. Looking inside, I realize there are only two left; I need to remember to pick up another box when I go grocery shopping tomorrow.

Or… now that I'm having sex regularly, I should make an appointment with my doctor to discuss other birth control options. I'm sure Edward would appreciate not having to use condoms — and given his spontaneity, it's probably safer.

I set the two remaining condoms on the nightstand, then toss the empty box into the trash can in the bathroom before running a brush through my hair. Stripping out of my clothes, I leave them in the hamper, then lie down in the center of the bed and try to relax. I'm having trouble shutting my brain down though. This is all just… crazy. I've never had sex this much in a relationship. I've never _wanted_ to. Maybe it really is true what they say about women reaching their sexual peak in their 30s.

The moment I hear Edward downstairs, my body starts to tingle in anticipation. Never mind the fact that we had sex three times last night — I seem to want him all the time.

"Fuck… you actually listened to me."

At the muttered curse, I look up at the vision standing in my bedroom doorway. He's fully clothed, with sweaty hair and a predatory look in his eyes.

"How did it go?" I ask curiously.

"I was only propositioned once," he replies with a grin, yanking his t-shirt over his head as he stalks across the room. "Told her thanks but no thanks and that was that." He toes his shoes off, then strips out of his sweatpants and g-string, crawling onto the bed and over my prone body. "I made five hundred dollars, Bella — in one night. Pretty tough to do that legally."

"I still don't like it," I protest, spreading my thighs to welcome him closer. _God_ , he smells amazing. He leans down to kiss me and I eagerly open for him, threading my fingers through his hair. Eventually he breaks away from my lips, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down my neck.

I cry out when his lips close over my left nipple; my period is due soon, making my breasts extra sensitive right now.

"I intend to spend the rest of the night causing you to make that sound over and over," Edward whispers. _Yes, please._

* * *

 **A/N:** Someone had suggested _Walk Like an Egyptian_ for this one, in honor of how Bella would be walking after that. You all crack me up sometimes! I changed this one more than once, so I hope I finally found one that fit!

Those who got the teaser weren't very happy with Edward for stripping at a private party, though it's something he booked when they were separated. He always comes home to Bella though. Do you think she should make him quit?

And as several of you have been suggesting, Bella is thinking about getting a more reliable form of birth control so that Edward can continue to get her naked whenever he wants.

Thursday's chapter title is another one for the hair metal fans, one of the few hairband songs to reach #1.


	38. Every Rose Has Its Thorn

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Many of you are still unhappy with Edward for his stripping! You bet he'd hate it if their roles were reversed!

Today's title was tougher! Only four got this one: **MIRosebud** , **astonmartin823** , **sherylb** , and a Guest.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 38: Every Rose Has Its Thorn_

Lying on my stomach, I'm awakened on Sunday morning by soft, wet kisses down the length of my spine. I stretch like a cat, sighing as smooth fingers tickle my sides. "Ready?" Edward whispers, spreading my legs apart.

"Mmmm…" I moan, before reality slaps me in the face. "Wait!" I struggle to turn over, then look up at his confused face. "We used the last two condoms last night."

"I'll pull out," he promises.

"You know… that isn't the most reliable method of birth control. And besides…" I trail off, unsure about bringing this up _now_. It's not like it hadn't occurred to me before, but I've done a pretty damn good job of tamping down my fears.

"Besides what?" he whispers, leaning down to lick around my navel. I squirm, trying hard to stay on track.

"We… we were apart for five weeks…" I begin.

"Five long—" he stops, kissing my right nipple, "—horrible—" another kiss on my left nipple, "—lonely weeks." Grinning at me, he drops a kiss onto my lips.

"How-how lonely?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"I mean… you… didn't sleep with other women when we were apart, did you?" I ask, trying not to sound anxious.

Edward sits back on his heels, staring down at me. "You think I cheated on you?"

"No! It-it wouldn't have been cheating. We were broken up." I almost want to say "we were on a break," but if he's too young to get the _Friends_ reference, I may scream.

"My heart was still with you, baby. I don't think I even _looked_ at another woman the entire time."

"Really?" How could he _not_ look at the women he was giving lap dances to?

"Yes, really," he assures me.

"Ok." I let out a long breath. "Um, I was thinking of getting an appointment with my doctor to see about some other form of birth control — the pill, maybe."

"So no more condoms?" he asks eagerly.

"I knew you'd like that," I chuckle. "But until then, we should probably hold off on having sex until we can pick up another box of condoms."

"Seriously?" he pouts.

"We shouldn't press our luck, you know?"

Edward groans, and I take my eyes off of his face long enough to realize he must be painfully hard. "That doesn't mean we can't… do other things," I add, licking my lips. I really do love his cock.

His face lights up as he grabs my hand, pulling me into a seated position. Smirking, he lies back, then motions for me to turn around. "Come ride my face, Bella."

 _Oh yeah._

* * *

Once we've showered and dressed, we get into Edward's car, headed… well, he won't tell me. "It's a surprise," is all he'll say.

Eventually we arrive at Crossroads Park in the northeastern part of Bellevue, where it's the second day of their annual Strawberry Festival. Edward wants to stop first at the classic auto show, so we can vote for our favorites before the 1:30 deadline.

Hand in hand, we walk through the rows of classic cars and then cast our votes before stopping for lunch. After we've eaten, we pass by the carnival games and he insists on trying to win me a stuffed animal. I can't control my smile as I watch him concentrate, trying to toss rings over the tops of glass bottles. In his khaki shorts, tight t-shirt, backwards baseball cap and sexy shades, he looks every bit like a teenager trying to win a prize for his young girlfriend.

Ten minutes later, I'm hugging my prize as we walk away from the games. "What _is_ he?" I ask, laughing at the neon lime green cube shape with two tiny arms sticking out of the sides and two legs dangling beneath him.

"It's a dice, see?" he points out the black dots on each side. "Better than the pink snake, right?"

"Definitely," I agree, laughing again. I hate snakes.

The highlight of the Strawberry Festival seems to be their strawberry shortcake. They even have a shortcake eating contest at 2pm, though both of us pass on entering that.

I shake my head at the huge dollop of whipped cream on Edward's bowl, but I still think he lost weight during our separation, so I won't begrudge him the calories. I pass on the whipped cream for myself, however — though he would probably be more than happy to help me work off the extra calories.

I'm watching a band on the distant stage when suddenly Edward reaches out, tapping me on the nose. He's grinning when he pulls his hand away. I make cross eyes as best I can, then realize he put whipped cream on my nose!

"Edward!"

He giggles like a girl, still grinning at me. "Your own fault for not paying attention."

I pick up my napkin and am reaching up to wipe it off when he grabs my wrist. "Uh-uh. I'll do it." I must turn as red as the fruit in my bowl when he leans forward, very thoroughly licking the mess off my nose with his tongue. The very same tongue that gave me two orgasms this morning.

Scowling, I wipe off his saliva, keeping one eye on my cheeky boyfriend as I finish the rest of my delicious strawberry shortcake.

Next, I take on Edward — and lose badly — in a game of miniature golf, before we head back to the Family Fun Arena, where he convinces me to act like a kid again, playing games and going on the handful of rides.

"Want to ride a pony?" he asks, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Is that some sort of sex euphemism?"

"No," he laughs. "I'm not just a pony." _Indeed._

"Then I think I'm about 30 years too old for that."

"You're not too old for anything, Bella," he says softly, brushing my hair behind my ear.

I smile up at him. I don't know that I'd agree, but… I haven't had this much fun since my day at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk last summer. This festival has been going on as long as I've lived in the area — hell, since the 1920s — and I've never been to it before.

"How about we check out the vendor booths?" I suggest.

Edward groans a little, since there must be close to 100 different booths. Walking through them, I pick up a couple of things, while he tries not to look too bored. Just like pretty much _all_ of the men we pass by, I note, so it's not really an age thing.

The last musical act of the day is a bluesy folk-rock band, so after getting Edward some ice cream, we stand to watch them play. He's behind me, his arms around my waist while he nuzzles my neck, scratching me with his stubble. He sways us back and forth, and I can't help smiling with happiness.

I try to tamp down that annoying part of me that wants to point out that our little bubble has to burst _sometime_. I still haven't told anyone that Edward and I are back together. I'm just… done with putting up with my friends' bullshit. Our relationship is no one else's business. If we're happy, then that's all that matters.

* * *

I yawn as I turn off my alarm an hour earlier than usual on Monday morning. _Someone_ kept me up too late, thanks to the new box of condoms we bought yesterday evening after the festival.

There are only two days left in the second quarter though, so it's an especially busy time for me at work. By 8am, I'm on my fourth cup of coffee.

It's a crazy, hectic day with stocks taking a beating. Both the S&P 500 and the Dow Jones drop well over 1% throughout the day in heavy trading. Once the markets have closed for the day, our boss calls us all into the conference room for a debriefing.

"Is it hot in here?" I ask Jessica, taking my jacket off as we choose seats around the large table.

"I'm ok," she shrugs. "You look kind of flushed though."

"Maybe I'm coming down with something," I agree. "I've felt a bit off all day."

I try to listen to what my boss is saying, but I continue to feel worse and worse as the meeting progresses. When I feel a sharp pain in my lower abdomen, I get it — my period is here. I hate the idea of drawing attention to myself by leaving early, but I need to get back to my office; I always keep a tampon in my purse.

As stealthily as I can, I stand up, gathering my jacket and moving to the doorway. I grab my purse from my desk drawer and start walking down the hallway to the ladies room, when a sharp pain causes me to double over. "Shit," I mutter. I've never had cramps _this_ bad before.

I continue on, but the pain seems never-ending and I start to feel dizzy. I reach out to the wall to steady myself, but another cramp sends me to my knees.

"Bella…" The panicked voice sounds like it's coming from a tunnel. Fuck, it hurts, I need to lie down…

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, an evil cliffie. Update on **Saturday**.

Yes, the stock market really did have a bad day on June 29, but not as bad as later in August.

Some of you had wondered what else Edward may have been up to during their separation, and Bella finally asked him. No other women!

A fun day out for them, but now what's wrong with Bella?

Ummm… the next title is really tough to hint for lol. The only real hint I can think of would be too easy (at least I think so). But it was a #1 hit in the mid '80s.


	39. Broken Wings

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Today's title was a real tough one! Congrats to **TwilightObsessed522** , who was the only one to guess! I didn't know how to hint it without saying that the band has a double name (Mr. Mister). That helped a couple of you, while others thought I was going for Duran Duran again.

There seem to be two main theories about what's wrong with Bella. The next few chapters may be upsetting to some readers.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 39: Broken Wings_

I'm vaguely aware of the feel of the carpet beneath my hands. Opening my eyes, I roll onto my back, where I see Angela's concerned face looming over me. I try to sit up but a hand on my shoulder gently presses me back down.

"Stay down," she orders softly. "Jess called an ambulance."

"Ambulance? I-I'm fine, just got a really bad cramp."

"No, I think it's more than that, Bella."

My brow furrows as I stare up at her. What more could there be? "How long was I out?"

"A minute or so," she answers, just as Jessica kneels on my other side, laying my jacket over me.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jessica asks gently.

"Tell you what?" My brow furrows again; I have no idea what she's talking about.

She reaches out to touch my forehead, then turns toward the gathering crowd. "Back off a bit, guys. She needs some air."

Closing my eyes against the bright overhead lights, I try to remain calm. The pain seems to be easing, but I still don't understand what's going on here. Angela and Jessica seem to know something I don't.

A few minutes pass before I hear a commotion; the paramedics must be here. I open my eyes just as Jessica stands up, disappearing from my view.

"Bella?" a paramedic leans over me. "We're going to lift you onto a stretcher, ok?" I think I nod just before he grabs hold of my shoulders. Just that small movement has made me dizzy again, and I close my eyes as they start strapping me down.

"We'll meet you at the hospital, Bella," Angela calls. "I've got your purse."

I keep my eyes closed as I'm wheeled through the building and onto the waiting ambulance. The paramedic from earlier is in the back with me, and he straps a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

"We'll be there in just a few minutes, ok?" he says, smiling down at me.

I nod helplessly. "What's going on? What's wrong with me?"

"Someone will check you out when we get there and be able to tell for sure," he answers, which just makes me even more confused.

It's a rush of activity when we arrive at the hospital. I'm wheeled into a room and a nurse starts taking my clothes off in favor of a hospital gown. I catch a glimpse of blood on my slacks and feel my face heating up. No wonder Jessica had covered me with my jacket.

The nurse takes a tube of blood from my arm before asking me a bunch of questions for the insurance and writing down all of my answers. Walking out of the room, she tells me a doctor will be with me shortly.

"Good afternoon, Isabella," the smiling young blonde woman in a white lab coat says as she steps into the room a few minutes later. "I'm Dr. Goff." She looks almost too young to be a doctor.

"Just Bella," I correct her, a little confused as she starts lifting my gown.

"I'm just going to do a quick pelvic exam, all right?" she says, but that doesn't help me understand what the big deal is. I've got my period — that isn't something unusual.

"What's going on?" I ask a few minutes later when she steps back, removing her rubber gloves.

"The blood test will tell us for sure, but I'm afraid you've had a miscarriage."

I blink a few times. "What? I'm not pregnant."

"Why do you say that?" she questions, pulling a chair up to my bed.

"Because I had my period a month ago, and since then I've only had sex in the past week."

"A normal period?"

My brow furrows as I think back. Well, no, it wasn't "normal" but that wasn't unexpected. "It was much lighter than normal, but… my boyfriend had forgotten a condom so I took Plan B. The instructions mentioned that a common side effect was your next period being lighter or heavier than normal."

"Mmmm… I think what you may have experienced was actually implantation bleeding, a type of spotting that sometimes occurs early in pregnancy. The blood test should confirm the presence of pregnancy hormones, but the severe cramps and bleeding that you've had are very much symptoms of a miscarriage."

Stunned, I lean my head back into the pillow. I was pregnant… and didn't know it?

"Your friends are waiting outside. Shall I send them in to wait with you?" Dr. Goff suggests.

"Um, sure. What-what happens now?"

"We'll wait for the test results to confirm the cause, but the excessive bleeding seems to have subsided, so I think the miscarriage is complete. You can go home tonight, though you'll need some fresh clothes. I want you to take it easy for the next several days.

"For a woman your age, some 25% of pregnancies end in early miscarriage, but that doesn't mean you can't have a baby in the future, if you choose. You mentioned using condoms, and I'd recommend waiting at least through your next cycle before trying to get pregnant again — though it doesn't sound like you were trying this time."

"I wasn't," I whisper.

The doctor pats my arm as she stands. Almost the moment she's out the door, Jessica, Angela and Alice — the girls must've called her, not realizing she's still on my shit list — rush in.

"Oh honey," Alice says, hugging me tightly. "Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant?"

"I didn't know," I admit, finally understanding what Jessica was asking back at the office. She knew what was happening then already.

"Jasper can manage the kids for tonight. I'll take you home once they release you, and stay with you all night, ok?"

I blink up at Alice. "I… I need clean clothes. Edward can bring them and take me home. I don't need you to stay with me."

"You and Edward are back together?" she asks in shock. "Since when?"

"Since… a week ago," I admit.

"You never told us," Angela speaks up, sounding a bit hurt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to argue with anyone about it," I reply grumpily. "He makes me happy. That's all that matters. If you can't accept that, then I don't need you in my life. _Any_ of you."

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I-I should call him. Where's my phone?"

Jessica hands me my purse and I pull my phone out, taking another deep breath before calling Edward. I need to get him to come down here without worrying him, which may be a Herculean task.

" _Hey,_ " he answers. " _Sounds like you had a rough day._ "

"What?" My heart starts to pound; surely he doesn't already know?

" _The stock market,_ " he replies in a duh voice. " _I saw it on one of the online news sites._ "

"Oh. Right."

" _Is something wrong, Bella?_ "

"Um, I need you to bring me some clothes. Just something casual, including underwear."

" _Bring them to your office?_ " he clarifies, sounding adorably confused.

"Um, no. I'll explain it all when you get here. I'm at the hospital." I hold my breath the moment the words are out of my mouth.

" _Hospital?! Are you ok?_ " he nearly shouts.

"I'm ok, just… I need you, ok? I'm at—" I break off, realizing I have no idea what hospital they took me to.

"Harborview," Angela supplies, and I give her a small smile in thanks.

"I'm at Harborview. I'm not in a room, so just ask at the ER desk when you get here."

" _Bella, are you sure you're ok?_ " He sounds panicked, and I need to get him calm before he drives over here.

"I'm ok. Promise."

" _I'll be there soon, baby. I love you._ "

"You too," I reply, conscious of the girls around me.

Hanging up, I lie back with a sigh. I have no idea how to tell Edward that I… had a miscarriage. I can't even guess how he'll react. I just hope he doesn't react… badly. He clearly doesn't deal well with adversity — what if it's too much for him and he leaves me again?

No! I can't let myself think like that. Edward loves me, and I think he's more than learned his lesson about what happens when he tries to walk away from me.

"How are you feeling?" Alice asks, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Like the stupidest person alive," I answer bitterly. "I dismissed every pregnancy symptom as something else. I did everything a pregnant woman isn't supposed to do. I work in a high stress job. I—"

"Bella, this isn't your fault," Jessica emphasizes. "Stress doesn't cause miscarriages, despite what people think. It's most likely because the fetus had some sort of genetic abnormality that was incompatible with life. Tell me you understand that."

"But I-I've been drinking alcohol. I had four cups of coffee this morning. None of that can be good."

"It wasn't your fault," she repeats. As I stare back at her, I remember that Jessica had two miscarriages shortly after she began working with me — before she conceived her now 6-year-old daughter.

There's a quick knock at the door before the doctor pokes her head in. "I have the blood test results," she announces, looking at my friends.

"They can stay," I nod. Might as well save me the trouble of telling them later.

She smiles back, then nods. "You were definitely pregnant, Bella. I need to do another quick examination, then I'll sign your release papers. If you all could wait outside…?"

"Bella, Jess and I are gonna take off. We'll take care of getting your car home, ok?" Angela offers, and I nod my thanks. "And we'll talk to Jason tomorrow — you should take the rest of the week off, at least."

Once they've all stepped out, Dr. Goff does an ultrasound, proclaiming me ready to go home. "You will have some minor residual bleeding for a week or two. If it's any more than that, please make an appointment with your doctor."

"All-all right. Thank you. Um, my boyfriend will be here soon to take me home."

Alice comes back in after the doctor leaves, taking a seat in the chair beside my bed. "You can leave if you need to get home. Edward will be here soon."

"I know; I'd like to meet him," she replies.

* * *

 **A/N:** A cliffie, but not an evil one this time!

Many of you who've been suggesting for a few chapters now that Bella was having (vague) pregnancy symptoms were correct. But it wasn't meant to be this time.

Now, how to break the news to Edward? Will he freak out or surprise her?

I'm not a doctor or nurse, so if any of you who **are** find glaring errors in this, I'll try to fix it. WebMD was my main source.

Monday's title is a 1980s cover of a song that was originally released 15 years earlier. Two readers actually suggested it for _this_ chapter.


	40. Lean on Me

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! I know it's not the fluffy little fic that the first three chapters indicated.

Much easier to guess today's title! There was a shockingly high success rate among those who made guesses. Congrats to **SarcasticBimbo** , **war123** , **MIRosebud** , **Pixie's Mama** , **SparkleSwan** , **asam75** , **sherylb** , **TLove81** , **AllTheWayIntoTwilight** , and **elanarosie**.

You all seem to be looking forward to Edward's reaction, so let's get to it…

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 40: Lean on Me_

"Alice," I sigh tiredly. "Please don't fight with Edward. Not now."

"I won't," she answers, sounding almost hurt, or offended. "I just want to meet him." I look at her skeptically, but she seems sincere. "So how did you two manage to get back together anyway?"

"It was his birthday last weekend and he called me because he missed me." A shortened version of the truth, maybe, but it's not really a lie. Alice does not ever need to know about his one-time relapse. "He never really wanted to break up in the first place, you know, but whatever your husband said to him pushed him into it."

"Jasper just meant to give him something to think about—"

"Yeah, well, whatever he said caused us _both_ weeks of heartache. It's going to be a long time before I can trust him again — if ever."

"Understood," Alice whispers. "So how do you think this happened?" I stare over at Alice and she rolls her eyes. "I mean, I know _how_ …"

"The night before we broke up, he woke me up in the middle of the night for sex and didn't use a condom," I admit. "I took the morning-after pill the next evening, but I guess it didn't work," I shrug. "I remember the instructions saying it worked seven out of eight times."

As if on cue, my phone beeps with a message from Edward letting me know that he's just parked his car.

"He'll be here soon," I report to Alice. "Please don't be mean to him. I-I love him, Alice. And he loves me."

"Love?" she repeats. "Just promise me you know what you're doing."

"Does anyone?" I counter.

A few minutes later the door bursts open and Edward rushes in, tossing a small bag onto the bed and gathering me in his arms before I have a chance to say a word. He holds me tightly until Alice clears her throat.

"Edward, this is Jasper's wife, Alice," I introduce them once he's pulled away. "She's, um, the one responsible for us meeting. She dragged me to the strip club for my birthday."

Alice stares at him, not-so-subtly checking him out. "Pleased to finally meet you," she eventually says, holding her hand out for him to shake. He does — briefly — then turns to me.

"Will you tell me now what's going on?" he asks urgently.

"Alice…"

"Say no more. Call me if you need _anything_ , Bella," she says, standing up. "Day or night." She looks like she wants to hug me, but Edward is in her way. I watch as she walks out of the room, then indicate for him to take her vacated chair, which he does — reluctantly.

"Are you all right?" he asks, immediately grabbing hold of my hand as if he can't bear to be separated from me. I don't want to be separated from him right now either. "What happened?"

"I'm fine. I, um, I don't quite know how to tell you this," I stall nervously.

"Just say it," he replies, smiling at me. He has no idea that I'm about to shake up his world. "Or… is there something really wrong? You're not sick…?"

"I'm not sick," I assure him. "I, um — at the office today I got these really bad cramps and I passed out. It turns out that, um, I had a miscarriage."

"You… what?" He stares at me as if I spoke in Chinese.

"I didn't know it, but I was pregnant, and I lost our baby," I explain gently.

"Our baby?" he whispers. In a flash, he's back on the bed, hugging me tightly. I lean my head against his strong chest, a tear leaking from my eye as I soak up his warmth and love. I don't know why I ever doubted him.

"Promise you're really ok?" he finally whispers.

"I'm ok. There was some bleeding, but it's mostly over now. I just need to take it easy for a while."

Edward kisses my forehead tenderly then pulls back a bit so that he can look into my eyes. "That last night… I didn't use a condom," he says quietly.

"No, you didn't," I agree. "But I took emergency contraception after you… left."

He looks like he wants to say something else but then he stands, running his hand through his hair as he paces across the small room. "Are you mad at me?"

"What? Why? You mean because you forgot a condom?" He nods. "I didn't even realize it at the time, not until the next morning. It's as much my fault as it is yours. I… wasn't really as diligent with birth control as I've been in the past, just figuring that at my age, I wouldn't conceive that easily. I guess I was wrong."

Edward gives me a small smile. "So can I take you home?" he asks.

"Yes, the doctor said I'm free to go." I pick up the plastic bag with fresh clothes that he'd tossed onto the bed when he first came in, then slowly get to my feet.

"Whoa!" He hurries over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Should you be up and around?"

"The doctor didn't say I shouldn't," I shrug. With his help, I walk to the bathroom to get dressed. I find my bloody clothes in a bag on a counter toward the back of the room, then let Edward help me into the hallway. He leads me to the waiting area in the ER, then encourages me to sit while he brings his car up to the door.

I let Edward play nurse when he comes inside to help me to the car, even allowing him to buckle me up before closing the door for me. I'm not used to relying on someone else take care of me, but it's nice.

We're both quiet, lost in our own worlds as he drives. I'm still in this weird sort of stunned numbness from finding out I was pregnant and had miscarried at the same time. I don't really know how I'm supposed to feel. How _we're_ supposed to feel.

I suggest stopping at Panera for dinner on the way home, since I'm not sure I can handle more than a bowl of soup. He runs inside to pick it up, then we continue home.

* * *

"Ok?" Edward asks as I slowly finish my bowl of chicken noodle soup.

I nod, swallowing. "I skipped lunch," I remember. "The stocks were going crazy and I didn't want to miss the last hour before closing. I did a great job of taking care of myself."

He frowns as he looks at me. "You didn't know, Bella."

"I had four cups of coffee today," I scoff. "Pregnant women aren't supposed to have much caffeine. Not to mention the two Cosmopolitans on Friday night, or that glass of wine last weekend."

"Or… all of the sex?" he suggests with a frown.

"What? No, I don't think sex is supposed to cause miscarriages." I sigh, rubbing at my temples. "Actually, the doctor said that 25% of pregnancies could end in miscarriage — for women around my age, anyway. Logically I know it was most likely some sort of fetal abnormality, like Jess said, but… I can't help thinking that if I'd just taken better care of myself…"

Standing, Edward steps over to me and helps me to my feet, then hugs me tightly. "You should rest," he says quietly. I squeal as he sweeps me off my feet and into his arms.

"I can walk," I protest, slapping his arm.

"I know," he smiles.

Upstairs in the bedroom, he sets me back on my feet. I grab my pajamas from the drawer then head into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. As I toss my makeup remover pad, I stare at the empty box of condoms still in the trash can — Edward had distracted me from emptying it last night. On a sudden hunch, I pull out the box, turning it around in my hands until I spot the barely visible expiration date stamped on the bottom of the box: July 2014.

Letting out a breath, I stare at the box as if the date will somehow change — but of course it won't. I didn't get pregnant because Plan B didn't work; it most likely happened because the entire time we'd been using expired condoms! I took the pill on a Wednesday night, but we'd been having sex since Friday after the gallery opening — longer than the 72-hour window. There's a good chance it was already too late when I took it.

I finish washing my face then brush my teeth before heading back to the bedroom. Edward is sitting fully dressed on the edge of the bed as he waits for me, and his brow furrows when he notices the box in my hand.

"Look." I hand him the box and his eyes widen when he sees the date. "I've had that box since I dated Riley four years ago."

He remains silent, staring at the box for several moments. "It really wasn't my fault," he finally whispers.

"No," I agree. "I'm the idiot who didn't check the expiration date before we started having sex."

Edward sets the empty box on the nightstand then lies down and scoots back toward the center of the bed, patting the spot beside him. I obediently lie down and he pulls me into his arms, gently combing his fingers through my hair. Staring into my eyes, his hand slowly drifts down until it covers my stomach. Just as slowly, I place my hand over his, then close my eyes.

I feel his lips touch my forehead, then he begins dropping tiny kisses all over my face, ending with my lips. "We can't…" I protest.

"Shhh, I know," he whispers. "Just let me love you."

* * *

 **A/N:** Protective Edward for the win! Though they're both still a little bit in shock. He didn't run as Bella had feared, though he worried that she'd blame him.

Some had wondered how Bella could've gotten pregnant after taking Plan B, and now we know. In my research for this, I picked up a box of condoms at Target to see how far out expiration dates usually fell (July 2018 for boxes on sale in October, if you're curious).

The title for Wednesday's update is another really tough one to hint. About all I can say is that it's by a female artist that I used earlier in the story.


	41. Lost in Emotion

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! A Guest thought that all miscarriages require a D &C. According to WebMD, that's only needed occasionally. If the miscarriage is complete and the uterus is clear or if it is very early in the pregnancy, there is usually no further treatment.

I stumped you all with the title! _I Wonder If I Take You Home_ (chapter 2) was also by Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam. The most popular guesses were _True Colors_ or _Time After Time_ by Cyndi Lauper.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 41: Lost in Emotion_

The next afternoon, I'm sitting on the couch in the living room wrapped in a blanket — despite the fact that tomorrow is the first of July — while Edward dotes on me. I'm a little tired, but otherwise I feel fine physically. There haven't been any more debilitating cramps. He acts like I'm an invalid, but I won't complain; he seems to need to do this.

Once he's taken care of the dishes from lunch, Edward sits down in the corner of the couch and pulls me into his arms. It's so strange to have him touching me with no intention of taking it any further, but I like it. His touch is unbelievably tender and sweet.

"Bella," he whispers after some time, tucking my head under his chin. "How are you feeling? And I don't mean physically."

I sigh, closing my eyes. "I feel like… I should be grieving more," I confess. "I mean, I lost our baby, but… it's not like I'd had a chance to picture what it would look like, or to imagine holding it for the first time. It's almost kind of surreal to have had something taken away at the very same moment I learned it existed in the first place."

Edward is quiet, his fingers tracing mindless patterns on my skin. "I imagine you were relieved," he finally says.

"What?" I turn my head, looking up at him in shock. What on earth is he talking about?

"To not have my baby. I mean, any child of mine would be—"

"Beautiful," I interject.

"An addict," he finishes, unable to look me in the eye.

"You don't know that!" I put my fingers under his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Yes, I suppose there's some genetic component to addiction, but it's not a guarantee. The thought had never crossed my mind, honestly."

"But you-you took emergency contraception, you said. You didn't want to get pregnant."

"I did take it," I reply softly. "You'd just dumped me, if you recall. But… I admit that I'd planned to pick up Plan B on the way home that day, before you told me you needed to talk to me. We'd only been seeing each other for a few weeks, Edward. I wasn't sure yet if I could trust you with my heart, if you wouldn't one day decide you want a younger woman. I didn't know then that I'd already lost my heart to you. It was far too soon to bring a baby into the mix, but if… if I hadn't… lost the baby, I certainly would've kept it."

"Really?" he whispers.

"Yes." I lean up to place a soft kiss on his stubbly chin. "I've never felt that I need a child in order to feel complete, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't look at a baby as a gift."

I watch Edward carefully, wishing I could read his mind. "Do you… Have you decided that you won't ever want to have children?" I ask curiously.

He shrugs. "I'm only 24," he replies, as if I need the reminder. "Children have just always been some far off future to me — after I've got my shit together."

I take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "You know that if we stay together, a baby isn't something that could happen in the distant future. I'm going to be 40 in September," I remind him. "Yes, some women do have children in their 40s, but there are risks — a higher risk of miscarriage, of birth defects, or even a higher risk to the mother.

"If you and I are going to be together for the long term, we can't wait years to decide to have a baby, Edward."

"So… you'd want a baby with me?" he asks almost shyly.

"I think, right now we just need to concentrate on getting you finished with college and into a career where you can keep your clothes on and other women won't be touching you all the time." He rolls his eyes, giving me a little smirk. "And then, we'll see if we're still together, and if a baby fits into our plans."

"So in a couple of years?" he clarifies.

I nod. "I think I can give it that long, but not much longer. Any pregnancy will be considered high risk, at this point."

"I don't know if I like you taking risks," Edward frowns. "But I know better now than to make decisions for you."

"Yes, you do," I chuckle humorlessly. "And I guess _I_ know now that your young swimmers are like heat-seeking missiles, so no more taking chances. I'll make an appointment with my doctor."

He smirks in response and I stretch up to kiss him. He returns my kiss, sliding down until I'm lying half on top of him. I let him deepen the kiss, just happy to reconnect with him this way. I'd forgotten how much fun just making out with Edward can be.

* * *

By Thursday, I'm starting to go a little stir crazy — Edward won't let me do much of anything myself, except take a shower. And even that requires some convincing.

I finally persuade him that I'll be fine for an hour while he goes for a run, then veg out on the couch watching soap operas. I can vaguely remember watching them occasionally with my mom when I was growing up. Just thinking about her and some of the good times we had makes me miss her. I haven't been to visit my mom since Christmas.

It's during a commercial break that everything from the past few days finally hits me. An ad for baby food features an adorable infant with big blue eyes and reddish hair — it looks like it could almost be Edward's child.

The child I could've had. The child I'll never get to meet.

By the time Edward comes back from his run, tears are streaming down my cheeks. He takes one look at me and rushes to my side. "Bella! Baby, what is it?"

Throwing my arms around his neck, I start sobbing uncontrollably. There's a part of me that feels like I'm being ridiculous — we were _not_ ready for a baby — yet I can't help myself.

"You're scaring me, Bella," he cries desperately. He holds me to him tightly with one arm, while his other hand runs in a loop from my head down to my backside. "Just breathe, ok?"

I try to listen to him, try to take deep breaths, to get myself under control. Edward rocks me back and forth, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. Finally he peels me off of him, gently cradling my face as he stares into my eyes. I see a tear leak from _his_ eye and wonder if it's from the sight of my pain — or his own.

"What happened?" he whispers.

"A fucking commercial for baby food," I spit out, trying not to start crying again.

His eyes widen. "Oh." Very gently, he brushes my tears away then kisses me softly. "I know we said after I finish school, but if you want to try for another baby…"

"No," I sigh. "It really isn't the best time, I know that. It's just… the baby in the ad looked like it could be yours, and… I feel silly now for losing my shit like that."

"To be honest, I was kind of waiting for it. Stereotypical crying women and all," he adds, rolling his eyes. I slap his arm, making him smile. "Just let me know when you're ready to try. In the meantime, we can always practice."

"You're incorrigible."

Edward smiles, tugging me forward until I'm straddling his lap. "I miss you," he says softly.

"You're with me constantly," I retort. I know what he means though; sex is still off the table, at least for now. He hasn't shaved in a few days and looks beyond sexy; I'd totally jump his bones if I could.

"I miss you naked. I miss _me_ naked. How long am I gonna be cut off?" he whines. He's smiling though, so I know he's mostly teasing and not actually upset.

"It's only been four days," I chuckle.

"Mmm… feels like a lifetime." He buries his face in my neck, trailing soft kisses up to my ear and sucking gently, then lifts his head to gaze into my eyes. "Are you ok?"

"I'll be ok," I promise him. "Are you?"

Edward gives me a small smile, mixed with a shrug. "The idea that I could've been a father in less than nine months is kinda terrifying, but…" He shrugs again, but I understand — he lost something too.

I take a deep breath before bringing up what I'd been thinking before the commercial. "You know, I think… this is a time when a girl — even one my age — needs her mother."

"Your mother?" he asks in shock. "You've hardly ever mentioned her."

"We aren't especially close, since she worked so hard all of the time when I was growing up and wasn't really around, but… she's still my mom, you know? She'll know what to say. And so I think… I want to go to Forks and visit her. It's time she met my boyfriend, anyway."

* * *

 **A/N:** Bella and Edward probably had their first real discussion of the future. They've agreed to wait to think about having a baby until he finishes school and they see where they are. In the meantime, Bella will be seeing her doctor for some reliable birth control! Thanks to **SandytheSandstorm** for the line about his heat-seeking missiles!

So, Bella finally felt the loss of their child. Don't get all mad at Edward now for whining about the lack of sex… he's teasing, really.

We'll meet Bella's mom on **Friday**! Bella has to tell her mom that she has a much younger boyfriend and that Renee almost became a grandma. She'd probably given up hope for grandbabies! The title is a #1 hit by a male artist whose career almost goes all the way back to when I was born lol.


	42. Tell Her About It

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! We've passed 4,000 reviews, so thanks to all of you!

An easier chapter title this time! No I am not old enough for Elvis lol. Congrats to **Pixie's Mama** , **TwilightObsessed522** , **sherylb** , **SparkleSwan** , **Debbliss** , **MIRosebud** and a Guest. I laughed at the guesses for Bob Seger's _Shakedown_. Do you all think Renee is gonna be tough with Edward?

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 42: Tell Her About It_

My mom works as a receptionist at a doctor's office in Port Angeles and has the holiday long weekend off, so she says I'm welcome to visit. We'll only be able to stay until late Saturday afternoon, however, since Edward can't get out of having to dance at the club that night.

I'm afraid his car won't make the long drive to Forks, so he reluctantly agrees to take mine — as long as I let him drive. We leave early enough to arrive by noon; Mom plans to have a home-cooked meal waiting for us.

Beyond telling Mom that I have a new boyfriend I'd like her to meet, I didn't give her any more information on Edward. Better to do _that_ in person.

"There it is," I nod to Edward and he turns into the driveway of my mom's middle class two-story home.

"Stay put a minute and I'll help you out of the car," he says, opening the door. I shake my head, but let Edward get our overnight bags from the trunk, then help me up. It's the first time I've been out of the house since I got home from the hospital on Monday, but I feel absolutely fine.

Carrying one bag in his left hand and one on his shoulder, Edward takes my hand as we walk up to the house. Mom must've heard us coming, because she has the front door open by the time we've reached the porch. I notice her eyes widen a bit at the sight of the beautiful young man beside me; he _is_ quite the looker in his khaki cargo shorts and faded red v-neck t-shirt.

"Isabella," she cries, grabbing me in a tight hug. "I've missed you so much, baby girl."

Edward snorts a little — probably at her favorite pet name — and I turn to glare at him. Once Mom has let me go, the three of us step inside and I clear my throat. "Mom, this is my boyfriend, Edward Masen. Edward, this is my mom, Renee Swan."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Swan," he greets her politely. I let him know ahead of time that she still uses my dad's name — 37 years after he left us. "Swan" is a hell of a lot better than her maiden name of Higginbotham.

"You too," she replies, surprising him with a brief hug. "You can take your things up to the guest room, and I should have lunch on the table by the time you come back."

"Come on, Edward, I'll show you the way." I turn and head up the stairs before he has a chance to try to carry me.

Inside the guest room, he sets our bags down, then sits on the edge of the bed, looking around at the room.

"What are you looking for?" I chuckle, moving to stand in front of him.

"Just trying to learn more about you," he shrugs. "In your childhood bedroom, I mean."

"Well, you won't find anything; I didn't grow up in this house. I, um, helped my mom buy it about 12 years ago. Mom and I lived in a series of tiny apartments, since she could never manage to save up enough money to buy a house."

"Oh," he replies, sounding a bit disappointed. He tugs me down to straddle his legs, wrapping his arms around me. "But can I still have sex with you in your teenage bed?"

"I'm afraid not. I just had a twin bed back then."

I kiss him chastely to soften the blow and he takes the opportunity to deepen it. I finally have to stop him before not-so-little Edward makes an appearance.

"Let's go back down before Mom wonders what we're doing in here," I suggest, grinning at his adorable pout.

Mom has cooked a dish with chicken and rice which is absolutely delicious. We make small talk for much of the meal until she looks up at Edward, scrutinizing him.

"Do you and Bella work together?" she asks.

"No," he answers.

"Mmmm… let me guess. Hot shot young lawyer then?"

"Hardly," he scoffs. "I'm still in school." I close my eyes, feeling like nothing good can possibly come from this line of conversation.

"Grad school?" Mom guesses. "Knowing my daughter's tastes, you're probably working on a PhD."

Edward frowns. "Actually I'm still working on my Bachelor's, studying Business. And before you ask, I'm 24," he adds.

"Well, well, well, my daughter is a cougar," Mom says, smiling widely.

"Mom—"

"Bella isn't a cougar, Mrs. Swan," Edward replies firmly.

"Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way," she hurriedly protests. "And besides," she winks, "The last man I dated was only 48."

Edward laughs, but I scowl. I do not need to know about my mother's sex life.

We continue to eat for a couple of minutes before Mom gets that curious look on her face again. "So how did the two of you meet?"

Edward glances over at me, looking a bit like a deer in headlights. I've never lied to my mother, but I can give her a slightly edited version of the truth.

"We first met around the time of my 35th birthday," I begin. "Alice dragged me to a male strip club."

"That sounds like Alice," Mom chuckles.

I smile and nod in agreement. "My well-meaning friends noticed me eyeing one of the dancers — who turned out to be Edward — and convinced him to bring me up on stage during his routine."

"You? On stage at a strip club?" Mom laughs loudly, making me scowl again.

"She was a bit of a stick in the mud at first, but she got into it eventually," Edward adds with a wink.

" _Anyway_ ," I continue, glaring at both of them, "We met for the second time last year, when Edward was bartending at a restaurant."

"And then after months of persuasion, she agreed to go out with me," he finishes.

"What a great story!" Mom exclaims. "And I'd love to see you dance, Edward."

"Maybe I'll give you a demonstration later," he smiles.

"I look forward to it," Mom gushes. I shake my head; my cougar mother is flirting with my boyfriend — a man young enough to be her grandson.

Once Edward has helped Mom rinse off the dishes, we all head into the living room to continue our chat. He sits just inches away from me, with his arm around me, and periodically leans over to kiss my temple or my cheek.

After an hour or so, Mom looks straight at me, and I feel like I've been called to my boss's office or something. "So why are you really here, Isabella?"

"I-I told you — I wanted you to meet Edward."

"Not that I don't believe that, but I haven't seen you in six months," she points out. "There must be more to it."

"Bella," Edward whispers, kissing just beneath my ear. "Why don't I go for a walk and leave you two to talk, ok?"

Before I can protest, he's up and out of the house and I am withering under my mother's stare.

"Out with it, Isabella."

I swallow thickly — this _is_ what I came here for, after all. "Um, on Monday, I got quite a surprise. Finding out that I was pregnant, and… that I had miscarried."

"Oh baby," Mom cries. Before I can blink, she's sitting beside me, holding me in her arms the way she would when I was a little girl. When she pulls away, she holds my face between her hands. "The pregnancy was a surprise as well?" she asks.

"Yes," I nod. "We weren't trying — obviously — and I had no idea I was pregnant, which means I didn't take care of myself at all. I did everything pregnant women shouldn't do, from working too many hours at a high stress job, to drinking coffee and alcohol."

"Isabella Marie Swan, are you blaming yourself for what happened?" my mother asks angrily. "Do you forget that I work for a doctor? Do you have any idea how many young women I see who've miscarried and beat themselves up over what they could've done to prevent it? In most cases, the answer is _nothing_."

"I know," I reply with a sigh. "I know it's common at my age. It's just so hard thinking of the 'what ifs' — if I'd known, I would've done so many things differently."

"Would you? I've been telling you for years that you work too hard."

"You know why I do."

"Yes, yes," Mom replies with a wave of her hand. "You're somehow making up for all of the things you were deprived of as a child. Bella, baby, you have enough money that you could retire _now_ and lead a comfortable life. The problem with working so hard is that you don't ever stop to enjoy your life. There are so many things that you should be doing now while you still can; don't put them off until you're too old to enjoy them."

"I don't do that," I protest.

"Yes, you do. The only vacation you've taken in the last few years was when your boss _made_ you. You need to grab hold of the things that matter in life and never let go, Bella. Take that boy, for instance. In less than two hours with the two of you, I've seen enough to know that he adores you. The way he looks at you… Bella, I've never once had a man look at me like that — including your father."

"Edward is special," I agree. "I love him."

"Then enjoy him!" she exclaims. I can't help it, I feel my face heat up at the innuendo, making my mother laugh. "Oh, to be young again," she sighs and I smile.

Edward picks that moment to return, a smirk slowly forming on his face as he glances between the two of us. "So did you two have fun talking about me?"

"Who says we were talking about you?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"That blush on your face," he chuckles. Sitting beside me, Edward pulls me close, kissing me more thoroughly than I've ever been kissed in front of my mother. I pinch his arm to get him to stop, but he ignores me.

"Oh my," Mom says when he finally lets me go, grinning widely. "I feel like I should give you the standard parental warning to treat her right, but somehow I think you already do."

"I try," he grins, making me blush even more.

* * *

 **A/N:** So that's Renee. She wasn't _too_ hard on Edward, though she was a bit shocked to hear how different he was from Bella's usual boyfriends. What did you think of her advice to Bella? And their edited story of how they met?

Poor Edward, unable to get busy with his girlfriend in her childhood bed lol.

Yeah… no idea how to hint the next chapter since you all don't know what's going to happen. I'll just say it's a band from Philadelphia (not Hall and Oates) and be surprised if anyone can guess even the band. They had a handful of Top 40 hits in the mid 80s. Somehow I remembered that that's where they're from, though I verified with Wikipedia.


	43. And We Danced

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story!

Another easy chapter title this time! More of you knew that The Hooters were from Philly than I'd expected! Congrats to **Pixie's Mama** , **MIRosebud** , **katbarpar** , **AllTheWayIntoTwilight** , **Alice's White Rabbit** , **EAMCSquared** , **teahoney** , **namemeamy** , **LMBB** , **DazzleMeTN** , **Ninkita** , **SarcasticBimbo** , **Christofine** , **wambam45** , **morena. davidson. 3** , **energizer bunny 12** , and **lsmurphy**.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 43: And We Danced_

Mom and I decide to show Edward around Forks later in the afternoon, so the three of us get back in my car, driving to the center of town. We show him the Timber Museum, my old high school, and anything and everything else of interest — not that there's much.

After stopping for dinner, I'm ready to head back to the house, but Mom has a different idea. "You want to go to a bar?" I chuckle, looking up at the neon sign outside the building she's lead us to.

"It's the most happening place in town. And the music isn't bad, mostly older songs."

"What do you think, Edward?" I ask, turning to him.

He shrugs. "Ok with me."

We step inside, but the bouncer stops us. "ID?" he asks, looking Edward up and down. I'm totally embarrassed, given the way his arm is around me. We're clearly a romantic couple and he thinks Edward might be under 21? Once he's shown his ID, we're waved inside.

Besides the large bar area, there are several high-top tables, with a stage and a small dance floor toward the back of the room. The place is packed, but then it's not very large.

"What are you girls drinking?" Edward asks. "I'll get this round while you grab a table."

"A Bud Light for me," Mom orders.

"Hmmm… I'm not sure they'd make a Cosmo," I muse, looking around the less-than-upscale room.

"Should you be drinking?"

"It's a bit late to do any damage," I reply, rolling my eyes.

Edward gives me a small smile. "I'll pick something for you," he declares.

"I don't like beer," I call toward his retreating back.

Mom manages to snag a table when a couple stands up to leave. I watch the bar as Edward orders our drinks.

"He's young, but he's definitely a keeper," Mom says, and I turn to smile at her. "He's so protective of you."

"That only started on Monday, after…" I trail off, not wanting to think about it all tonight. We're here to have a good time.

Edward returns carrying two glasses in his right hand and a bottle of Bud Light for Mom in his left. It looks like he's just got Coke for himself.

"What did you get me?" I ask as he sets down the tumbler of light chocolate-colored liquid.

"Bailey's. Women used to order that all the time when I was bartending."

I take a sip of my drink, and it actually _is_ pretty good. Tastes almost like chocolate milk. The three of us drink and chat and listen to the music until a slow ballad begins playing.

"Dance with me," Edward says, sliding off his stool and holding his hand out to me.

"You won't even let me get out of a car without help and you want me to dance?" I ask incredulously.

"It's a slow dance," he shrugs. "I want to dance with you, Bella."

Oh hell. There's no way I could say no to that tone of voice or the look on his face, so I agree, letting him lead me to the dance floor. He pulls me close and I wrap my arms around his neck, swaying along with him. He stares into my eyes the entire time, periodically leaning down to kiss me.

After the third or fourth time, he kisses his way from my mouth over to my ear, sucking gently on my earlobe. "I love you," he whispers, and my entire body breaks out in goosebumps.

An abrupt change to an old hair metal song breaks the mood before I can return the sentiment. Taking my hand, Edward leads me back to our table, where my mother looks like she's about to swoon.

"Are you two ready for another round?" Mom asks. "My treat this time."

"Sure," I agree. "I could have one more."

"What are you drinking, Edward? Is that rum and Coke?"

"Just Coke," he answers. "I don't drink." I cringe a bit as Mom walks away, almost wishing he hadn't added that last part, which can only invite questions.

About 15 minutes after Mom returns with fresh drinks, the music stops and one of the bartenders climbs up on the stage to announce the start of the Forks Friday Night Dance Contest. I look over at my mom and she's smirking; she totally knew they did this when she chose to come here.

Anyone who wants to enter is asked to come down to the dance floor. A spotlight will shine on the entrants one by one, and the crowd is supposed to applaud their favorites when they're spotlighted. The three with the most applause will move into a second round.

"Should I enter?" Edward asks, grinning.

"Just remember to keep your clothes on," I reply dryly.

He pouts but then nods. "If anyone else takes them off, I'm following."

Edward and maybe 12-15 other people, both male and female, head to the dance floor, choosing their spots. When the music starts up, of course my eyes are drawn to Edward. I try to watch the others briefly, just long enough to judge the competition.

He can dance rings around everyone else out there.

When it's Edward's turn in the spotlight, Mom and I both clap and cheer loudly. To my ears at least, he gets the most applause of anyone.

After the song has ended, the bartenders confer before choosing the three finalists. They pick out Edward first, along with a pretty young brunette and an older man who made everyone laugh by doing the Robot and the Sprinkler. I wouldn't put it past him to try to take his shirt off for a reaction.

All three step up onto the stage and we're told that, once the song is over, our applause will determine the winner of a $50 gift card. Edward looks over at me and winks; the cocky SOB so thinks he's going to win.

Of course, once the music starts, he shows us all exactly why he thinks that. The female contestant is actually pretty good, but nothing like Edward. He moves as if he's in a trance, feeling the music in every cell in his body.

Sure enough, about halfway through the song, the other guy _does_ pull his shirt over his head, showing off his very hairy chest and beer belly. Everyone laughs but then I hear a "Take it off!" chant directed at _Edward_. He's only too happy to oblige, of course, removing his t-shirt to loud screams. I glance over at my mother to see her wide-eyed and staring at my half-naked boyfriend.

When it's time, I cheer as loudly as I can for him, then cheer almost as loud when he's announced as the winner. "Are you single?" someone from the audience calls.

Edward laughs. "I'm hopelessly in love with my girlfriend, sorry."

He pockets his gift card then stalks across the room to us, carrying his t-shirt. Setting it on the table, he turns my stool around until he can take me in his arms, kissing me soundly.

"Put your shirt back on!" I cry. My mother is just a few feet away.

"I'm all sweaty," he protests, a huge grin on his face. His eyes are sparkling and for the first time, I think I understand how much he loves to dance. As much as I hate the thought of other women touching him, he's truly in his element. I can't take this away from him.

"What?" he chuckles. "What's that look?"

"You really love dancing."

"It's like the only thing I'm good at," he shrugs.

"The only thing?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Edward grins even wider. "Well, well, _your_ mind is in the gutter," he growls, stepping in between my thighs. Taking my face in his hands, he kisses me breathless, with little care to the fact that we're in a public place — and in full view of my mom.

He stares into my eyes when he finally pulls away, giving me a soft smile.

"Nice job, Edward," my mom calls. "You're really good."

He takes a step back, then takes a little bow. "Glad you enjoyed the show." I pick up his shirt from the table and hold it out to him. Rolling his eyes, he takes it from me, shrugging it over his head, then downs the rest of his Coke in one swallow.

"Do you want another drink?" I ask with a chuckle.

Edward shakes his head, then leans in close. "I want to be alone with you," he whispers.

"Are you about ready to leave, Mom?" She smiles like she totally _knows_ , but she agrees.

Edward drives us back to Mom's house and she disappears upstairs after wishing us both a good night. Meanwhile, I head into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. As I stand drinking it, Edward comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around me, and I happily lean back into his embrace.

"Let's go upstairs, Bella." He nips at my neck, his hands brushing my hips, and I want nothing more than to let him have his way with me, but I can't, not yet.

"Just a minute," I chuckle. "I don't want a headache in the morning."

Once I've finished my water, he scoops me up and I let him carry me upstairs. The guest bedroom doesn't have an en suite bath, so I grab my things from my bag then head for the hall bath.

Edward joins me in bed after his turn, pulling me close as he spoons behind me. "Did you and your mom have a nice talk this afternoon?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah… she gave me some things to think about."

"She doesn't… think I'm too young for you, does she?" he asks hesitantly. "Or not good enough?"

"No," I assure him.

"Good. I'm afraid I might go off on the next person who thinks our relationship is their business."

I roll over in his arms, kissing him softly. "I love you. You make me happy, and nothing else matters to me."

He kisses me back, then leans his forehead against mine, stroking the side of my face. "I love you too. And I promise to spend the rest of my life making you happy."

* * *

 **A/N:** Sneaky Renee, taking them to a bar where Edward could show off his dancing skills! He convinced Bella to dance _with_ him for the first time, made $50, and won Renee's approval — a pretty good night! Some of you were afraid he'd strip for her mom, but no lol.

As much as she doesn't like him stripping, Bella can see Edward's love for dancing and can't bring herself to ask him to quit. She does make a huge decision next chapter though.

 **Tuesday** will be the last regular chapter in this story, though there is an Epilogue. The chapter title was the title of two completely different songs that were Top 10 hits in the 80s.


	44. Heart and Soul

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! Big kisses to Iris (MariahajilE) for rec'ing this fic on The Lemonade Stand this week!

I stumped most of you with today's chapter title. _Jump_ (Pointer Sisters and Van Halen) was by far the most popular guess. Both **teahoney** and **sherylb** said _The Power of Love_ , and when I told them they had one of the correct artists, they were able to figure out the right song.

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Chapter 44: Heart and Soul_

The next morning, we go to the diner with Mom for a late breakfast, then hang out at the house for a couple of hours. Edward has to be at the strip club by 9pm, but it's such a nice day that I plan to take him to LaPush to see the beach before we leave the area. It's as good a place as any to tell him what I've decided.

Once Edward has put our bags in the trunk of my car, Mom gives me a big hug then opens her arms for Edward. She whispers something in his ear that I can't make out. And she may sneak a grope of his fine ass.

I win the argument and drive us to First Beach, parking in the nearest lot. It's a nice afternoon and there will be fireworks down here tonight, so the beach is as crowded as I've ever seen it. Several men in wetsuits are out on surfboards as well.

"I was learning to surf before I moved back to Seattle," Edward says, watching them.

"Were you?" I chuckle. "You don't strike me as a surfer dude."

"Well, I wasn't very good. It was fun though. I miss the ocean," he frowns. Stopping suddenly, he bends over to remove his shoes and socks, then goes running toward the water.

"Edward!" I call. I shake my head as he runs until he's up to his knees in the Pacific Ocean.

Turning around, he waves to me, smiling hugely. "Come on in with me!"

"Not a chance. I grew up around here and know how cold the water is." Hands on my hips, I watch Edward run through the breaking waves then turn back onto the beach and return to me. "You silly boy, you're gonna freeze to death!"

"It is pretty fucking cold," he laughs, but his eyes are sparkling, almost like they were last night. And I feel like maybe, this is going to go better than I thought.

Since his feet are wet, Edward picks up his shoes, then takes my hand again as we resume our walk down the beach.

"So, um—" I stop, clearing my throat. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh-kay?"

"It's not bad," I quickly reassure him. "At least I don't think so."

"Should we sit?" Edward points to a large piece of driftwood, and I agree, leading him over to it and sitting down.

"What is it, Bella?" he asks, taking my hands in his. The sweet way he's looking at me does a lot to ease my nervousness.

"So… remember I said that Mom gave me some things to think about?" He nods. "No matter how many times I hear that the miscarriage wasn't my fault, some part of me will always believe that my lifestyle contributed."

"Bella—"

"Let me finish," I warn softly. "The fact is, work has been my number one priority for a very long time. I've told you before that I grew up poor. We had a roof over our heads and enough food to eat, but none of the little luxuries that my friends had. And I resented that. I swore that I'd get my college degree and make something of myself."

"And you did."

"I did," I agree. "But instead of enjoying those luxuries that I can now afford, all I do is work. Mom really got me thinking when she said I shouldn't put things off for later. What if later never comes?"

I stop for a moment, trying not to get emotional. "For many years," I begin, "I worked with someone who was so looking forward to his retirement three years ago. He had this whole list of things he and his wife were going to do — traveling, splitting time between their homes here and in Florida, taking all 12 of their grandchildren to Disney World." I pause, taking a deep breath. "Two months after he retired, his wife was diagnosed with cancer. She fought a good fight, but died about 18 months later. And then six months after that, he had a massive heart attack while playing basketball and passed away. He never really got to enjoy anything he'd planned on. I don't want that to be me, Edward."

"So what are you saying?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"I'm saying that… I don't think I can do this anymore. I need to find a different job that gives me more time to enjoy my life — with you. I need to slow down — stop and smell the roses, as the saying goes. And… I think we need to do it somewhere other than Seattle."

Edward's eyes widen. "You want to leave Seattle? And go where? Back here?" he asks, looking around at the beach.

"No," I chuckle. "I doubt there's any way I could use my degree in Forks. No, I was thinking… maybe California? I loved Carmel, though we don't necessarily have to move there. You seemed to like living in Monterey, right? You were thriving there. And… we wouldn't have to worry about anyone else from your past catching up with you. Lightning can't strike twice," I add with a chuckle.

"You don't have to convince me, Bella," he says softly, bringing my hands up to his lips. "I did love it in California. I know my mom won't be happy, but I also know I have to live for myself. And you're right, it would be nice to not have to keep looking over my shoulder for someone who might recognize me."

"So… you want to do it?" I have to admit that I didn't expect Edward to agree quite so easily.

"I'd go to the moon with you."

* * *

Later that night, I'm listening to soft music and sipping a glass of wine as I sit on the couch waiting for Edward to come home. I check my phone every two minutes, as if I wouldn't hear a new text message come in.

As much as I understand his need to dance and truly believe he isn't going to cheat on me, I still hate the thought of other women touching him. It's worse to actually _see_ it though, so I didn't protest when my overprotective boyfriend suggested that I stay home this time.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I get a text saying he's on his way home. Finishing my drink, I rinse my wine glass and put it in the dishwasher. I think about going upstairs to wait for Edward, but though any residual bleeding seems to have stopped, I don't feel emotionally ready to have sex yet. And even with the new box of condoms, I don't think I want to chance it until after I see my doctor on Monday and get on some form of birth control.

That doesn't mean I can't remind Edward that I'm the only one who _should_ be touching him.

I decide to go back to the couch and wait, brainstorming how I can surprise him. When I hear the door open from the garage, I take a deep breath. It's almost show time.

"There you are!" Edward calls, stepping into the room.

"Hey," I greet him with a smile, moving to stand up.

"No, no, no — sit!"

"Why?" I chuckle as I sit back.

"You'll see," he smirks.

I watch him yank his t-shirt over his head, then toe off his shoes and pull his shorts down, gasping as I see he's still wearing his g-string.

Edward walks over to me, then lowers himself down to straddle my lap. "I can't give you a lap dance if you're standing," he purrs.

Smiling, I lean my head back, watching him as he moves above me. He obviously hasn't showered yet, because he smells amazing. "How many of these have you already given tonight?" I ask curiously.

"Just one." I want to wring her neck.

"Bachelorette?"

He shakes his head. "Twenty-first birthday."

That's somehow even worse. "Was she pretty?" I whisper.

"She had nothing on you, baby," he promises, picking up my hands and placing them on his chest. "Now I don't want to talk about her."

He takes my face in his hands, kissing me slow and deep while he continues to slowly gyrate above me. I rub my hands over his hairless chest then pull and twist his nipples, loving his little gasps and moans.

It's not long before I feel his erection against my lower stomach. I drag my left hand away from his chest, bringing it down to cup his balls. "Bella," he gasps and I smile as I drag one finger up the length of his fabric-covered cock.

Edward starts lifting up my top and I raise my arms to help him. Once he's tossed it aside, he yanks my bra down on one side and attaches his mouth to my nipple. I move my hand back to his g-string, fondling and teasing him.

"Oh fuck," he moans. "Missed your touch."

"Take it off," I direct and when he eagerly stands up to do it, I move too, kneeling in front of him. Before he can figure out what I'm doing, I've got his cock in my mouth.

"Bella… you don't … fuck…"

I take him in as deep as I can, one hand still lightly stroking his balls, and he's rendered completely incoherent. He places his hands on the back of my head, fighting to keep his eyes open, and I do my best to give him a show, looking up at him in that way all men seem to love.

Edward starts to thrust slowly into my mouth — which normally I hate. He's not being rough though, and I love making him lose control.

"So good, baby," he pants. I lightly scrape him with my teeth and he groans loudly. "Gonna come!"

I won't let him pull away, taking him in deep and quickly swallowing everything he gives me. I release him with a pop and he throws his head back, breathing heavily.

Finally he reaches out a hand to help me up then hugs me to him. I let him just hold me for a minute before I start leading him to the couch. He flops onto his back, pulling me down on top of him.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?" he asks.

I nip at one of his nipples then lift my head to look him in the eye. "Just reminding you that your body is _mine_ , Edward Masen."

"And my heart and soul, too," he promises.

* * *

 **A/N:** In the words of Janet Jackson… _That's the end!?_ Bella is ready to slow down and enjoy her young man… in California. No, he's not perfect, but she's accepted him exactly as he is. This was the end of my original outline from last May. After talking it over with moosals once I'd written this chapter, we decided that it was a good place to end the story, rather than stretch it out to include breaking the news to their family and friends, or something like that.

An Epilogue will follow. I named it with a perfect "last chapter" song title before I wrote it, and now I think that title doesn't fit very well, so I have two days to come up with a new title…

* * *

Not to be a downer, but with all of the celebrities dying at relatively young ages over the past several weeks, Bella's decision is even more relevant. Her story of her coworker is the true story of someone I worked with for 17 years; I only changed the timing. He actually died in October 2015, the day before I wrote this chapter. RIP Larry and Marcia (and Glenn Frey, Alan Rickman, David Bowie, etc.)


	45. Epilogue: Don't Stop Believin'

**Author Note:** Thanks for embracing this story! We're at 4,329 reviews right now. _The Man Next Door_ sits at 4,511. Given that the most reviews this story has ever gotten for one chapter is 134, I don't think we can catch it just from the Epilogue, but once the Complete readers descend… maybe. That's actually kinda sad, because I tend to think TMND is my best writing. It's got 7 fewer chapters though.

I literally renamed this Epilogue last night, based on a song I heard while driving home from work! So no one could guess a title I didn't even know. As for all time results… **MIRosebud** is our grand champion, with 10 correct guesses, followed by **sherylb** with 9. Honorable Mention to **EAMCSquared** (5), **SarcasticBimbo** (5) and **astonmartin823** (4). About four dozen of you made correct guesses over the course of the story. Thanks for playing!

Thanks again to moosals and NKubie for pre-reading. Stephenie Meyer owns all characters.

* * *

 _Epilogue: Don't Stop Believin'_

 _May 2017_

"I'm so proud of you, Edward!" Esme cries, flinging her arms around her son.

I stand back, smiling and waiting my turn as she hugs him tightly. He makes a tall dashing figure in his black graduation gown, having earned his B.S. in Business Administration, with a concentration in Marketing.

Thanks to our August move to Carmel, Edward was too late to start school in the Fall 2015 semester at the Monterey Bay campus of California State University. Instead, he started the following spring, going to classes year-round. It was a huge deal to him to be able to graduate before his 26th birthday, before he crossed over that invisible line to "late 20s" — though I told him repeatedly that it didn't matter to me at all.

Once Esme has finally let him go, Carlisle gives him a brief man-hug, and then Edward holds his arms out for me. I rush into them, squealing when he picks me up and spins me around.

"I echo your mom's comments," I tell him as soon as my feet are back on the ground.

He ducks his head almost shyly. "I couldn't have done it without you." He puckers his lips and I oblige, stretching up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

Edward and I, along with his parents, drive up to Monterey to have dinner after the ceremony, before returning to our house, where they'll be spending the night in our guest room. It's a shame that Emmett and Rosalie couldn't be here as well, but the Mariners are currently on a road trip and Rosalie is eight months pregnant with their first child and unable to fly.

Despite his words earlier, Edward is the one who's worked so incredibly hard to get where he is — and not just going to school. Almost as soon as we moved, he got a job tending bar in the clubhouse of one of the many golf courses in the area.

After starting school the following January, he had to cut back his work hours dramatically, and felt guilty over how little money he was bringing in. Though we didn't need his paycheck at all, _he_ needed to contribute, and so I bit my tongue when he decided to go back to stripping at the Twilight strip club in Santa Cruz on Friday and Saturday nights.

I rarely went to watch his public performances, but I always got a private lap dance after he returned home.

Edward only danced for about a year, stopping once he began an internship in the marketing department of a men's clothing manufacturer. He must've impressed them, because they've offered him a full-time job, starting next week. He's also gotten the opportunity to model for their catalog — finally, a way to put those killer good looks to good use _fully clothed_.

As for me, I started out my new, quieter life by teaching a class on investing through Monterey Peninsula College, the community college Edward had attended before moving back to Seattle. I even took classes of my own in golf — which fed my competitive nature — and yoga, which helped me learn to relax.

Eventually my investing course caught the attention of one of the larger employers in Monterey County, and I was brought on as a consultant to take a fresh look at the various fund options available for their 401k program. From there, one of the employees mentioned my work to her husband, who worked for another large employer, and suddenly I had another consulting job.

Today I own a full-fledged consulting business where I'm able to work only as much as I want and still get to stay in my industry. I love it, and I love my new slower pace. I love my life.

And I love my boyfriend.

Maybe it sounds crazy to say it, but my miscarriage two years ago was perhaps the best thing that could've happened to us. For me, it made me reevaluate my priorities, and I'm much happier with my life now.

But even more than that, my protective boyfriend from that first week stuck around, and in some ways, he became an entirely new person — he grew up. Edward is still my fun, flirty, sexy boy, but he's also become a man who can be serious when he needs to be. He's my rock on my bad days. He was right there beside me when I told my skeptical friends that we were leaving town, and he was there to reassure me that I was doing the right thing after I turned in my two-week notice at my old job in Seattle. And he's made me fall more and more in love with him every day.

* * *

"I thought they'd never leave," Edward growls once his parents have left for their 4pm flight the day after his graduation. He wraps his arms around me from behind, kissing the side of my neck with obvious intent. "It's not too late, is it?"

His hands slide down my torso, brushing my hips and then squeezing my ass. "I-I don't think so," I reply shakily.

"Then what are we waiting for?" I have no chance to respond before I'm swept up into Edward's arms and carried into our bedroom.

He carefully sets me down on my feet beside our king-sized bed, then begins pushing up the bottom of my blouse. Tossing it aside, he hastily unhooks my bra, spinning me around so that he can sit down on the bed, leaving my breasts at the perfect height for his mouth.

I throw my head back, tangling my fingers in his silky hair as he licks and sucks and teases both nipples. God, he's good at that. And he's never seemed to care that my breasts aren't nearly as perky as they were when I was his age.

In fact, my age truly has never seemed to bother Edward at all. I've never spent a lot of time in the sun, and I've taken good care of my skin, so I don't really have any wrinkles, beyond the very fine lines at the corners of my eyes. I don't have a _lot_ of gray hair, but because it's so obvious against my natural dark brown, I've been dyeing the grays for about four years now.

I've worked out on a semi-regular basis for years, but my newfound passion for yoga has really helped tone and firm my body. I know I look good — and not just for a woman of my age.

But I can't stop the ticking of my biological clock.

I'll be 42 on my next birthday, which means the chances of my conceiving a baby are probably only a third of what they were just 10 years ago — and dropping fast.

Once we knew for certain that this would be Edward's last semester of college, we decided to start trying to have a baby. After two months without success, I bought an ovulation test kit and have been using that to track my most fertile days each month. Of course, Edward would be more than happy to have sex with me — repeatedly — at any time, but it's still been nice to know when to focus our efforts.

"Mmm… you make me so hard, I think I'm gonna burst out of my jeans," Edward chuckles, hurriedly stripping out of his clothes. He removes my pants and underwear, then scoots back on the bed, pulling me onto his lap. His very hard cock is trapped beneath me, and I can't resist grinding down on it.

"Are you ready to try and make a baby?" he asks quietly, brushing my hair behind my ear. After five months of trying, it's starting to get a bit discouraging, but the test said yesterday and today are my high fertility days for this month, and I'm not about to give up yet. I know if it doesn't work this time, my doctor has suggested that it may be time for medical intervention — but I don't want to think about that right now.

"Ready," I whisper, placing my hands on his shoulders.

Edward lifts me up, positions his cock at my entrance, then slowly lowers me down onto it. His hands move to my ass and he leans forward to kiss me softly as he begins moving me just the way he likes.

"You know, this position probably isn't the best for baby-making," I chuckle, but damn, it's one of my favorites, where I feel so full of Edward.

"I'll lay you back before I come," he promises.

This time when he kisses me, it's slow and deep. I tangle my hands in his hair again, pulling and tugging — which I've learned drives him crazy. He starts moving me faster, and I can't help crying out.

"Are you gonna come on my cock, baby?" I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Y-yes," I mumble.

Edward arches my back, bringing my breasts up to his mouth, sucking hard, and I'm done for. He lets me ride out my orgasm for a few moments, then suddenly gets up onto his knees, laying me down on the bed.

"Again," he growls. He's still on his knees, grasping my hips and pounding me mercilessly. I want to shake my head, tell him I can't come again so soon, but I've been having sex with Edward for the last two years, so I know nothing is impossible.

Sliding his right thumb over my clit, he rubs expert circles, his eyes begging me to come with him. "Bella," he begs. "You feel too fucking good… can't hold on much longer."

I stare into his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by what we're doing here. We're trying to make a baby, to start a family of our own. I've known for a while that I want Edward forever, but this will bind us together for eternity.

At that thought, I come hard, my back arching off the bed, and I feel Edward reach his own release, deep inside me. When I come back to earth, his body is covering mine, and we're still connected intimately. Finally he lets out a breath, carefully withdrawing from my body.

"Don't move," he orders softly — as if I could. After slipping a pillow under my hips, his hand reaches for mine and he squeezes it lightly. "I love you."

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, really! For the first time ever, I'm planning a sequel! I think they still have some story to tell, but given that it's two years later, it makes more sense as a sequel than a continuation of this story.

The bad news is that I wasn't able to write while I was posting this story, so I haven't started the sequel yet. My first task will be a contest entry, then some promised EPOV, then I'll come back here. I can't promise a time… give me a couple of months?

Tell me what you thought about their future! Edward the college graduate and marketing guy (and male model lol)! Bella as a teacher and consultant! And they're trying for a baby!


End file.
